Just saying.
I made my way to the stage, my heart pounding at my ribs, and my throat suddenly as arid as a desert floor. Would I even get through a song without alcohol? I wasn’t sure at that point. The MC handed me a cordless mic and I took my place centre stage. The opening bars of Soundgarden’s “Superunknown” began to play, and I swallowed, willing some moisture to appear from somewhere so that the notes would make it past my voice box. Nervously, I peered out at the audience silhouetted by the bright lights boring into me from overhead. I knew where Star was seated but I couldn’t make her out, which, I surmised, was probably a good thing. I may have walked off the stage and done a runner if I’d caught her gaze right then.
As the intro finished, I closed my eyes as the lyrics spilled from my lips almost of their own accord. I immediately relaxed and my grip on the mic loosened a little. Slowly, I opened my eyes and stared out at the crowd as the music vibrated through my bones, building, ready to carry me away. As if in some kind of trance, my feet moved and that was it…I was gone.
I had changed.
The stage persona had thrust his way to the front of my psyche, and I strutted around the stage like some fucking rock star. It was amazing. The adrenaline coursing through my veins, as I pushed the screeching notes out into the room with ease was the best natural high I’d experienced. Well, after spending time with Star, that is.
The crowd began to move around and clap along with the beat as I sang. I stomped around to the drum beat and even got the crowd singing on the chorus. Although they were someone else’s words, they really spoke to me, liberating me from what had been a straitjacket of other people’s control for so long. I didn’t have to be what they wanted. I didn’t have to see things how they did. I was my own person. I was in charge of my own destiny. I had no clue what had made me choose the song, but there I was on stage, fulfilling a childhood dream and literally stepping out into the Superunknown.
Star
Once again, I watched in awe as Fin’s alter ego took up residence on the stage. He simply owned it. There was no doubt about it; the man could certainly sing. And seeing that transformation from shy sweet Fin to rock god was like nothing on earth. Goosebumps covered my skin as I watched his mouth form every single word. It was as if he really believed every one of Chris Cornell’s lyrics as he belted out the song. My heart skipped a beat as I watched proudly. I knew he couldn’t really see me; the lights were pretty darn bright up there. But at one point, he pointed right at me, and a shiver tickled its way down my spine like he had physically touched me.
He. Was. Amazing.
The song ended and Fin stood there, head back, arms out at his sides, chest heaving, and sweat trickling down his gorgeous face. If there hadn’t been such a large, loud audience, I would have been up there ripping the clothes from his damp skin. The crowd erupted, and the raucous noise was almost ear-splitting. They certainly appreciated him. There was no doubt about it. But as if waking from a trance, he dropped his face to the crowd and a look of alarm spread across his features. His eyes widened as whoops and cheers were shouted from every corner.
Lifting the mic to his mouth once more, he muttered, “Th-thank you,” before sliding the mic in the stand and hurrying off. He didn’t come back right away, and I worried again he had taken off, considering the rabbit-in-headlights look on his face as he took the stairs down from the stage.
After around ten minutes, he plonked himself down beside me and heaved a huge sigh. “Well, that was fun.” The words were what I expected, but the tone seemed rather sarcastic.
I turned to face him. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I couldn’t get back to you. People wouldn’t let me by. Bloody women shoving phone numbers in my hand and guys I’ve never met before slapping me on the back. Bloody hell.” He shook his head. “I’m only me. And this is only a karaoke club, not the bloody O2 Arena.”
“Well, yes. It was a little self-indulgent, to be honest,” I teased. “I mean…anyone would think you were Chris Cornell strutting around up there.”
He pouted sulkily. “Hey, I take offence at that.”
I rolled my eyes and slapped his arm playfully. “I’m kidding around, you jerk. You were amazing. There’s no wonder people have that reaction to you. You look so…I don’t know…right up there. All rock God-ish.”
His face scrunched. “I…I don’t mean to look like that. I just…it’s like something takes over me.”
“Yeah. You’re a regular Jekyll and Hyde, that’s for sure.”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Funnily enough, you’re not the first to say that.”
“Come on. It’s not an insult. Jeez, lighten up, Fin.”
“No, I mean it. I don’t go up there to be all showy. I get some kind of rush. Like a release. But it’s not an ego thing.”
“Every performer has an ego. Even if it’s an alter-ego.” I snorted and regretted it immediately. A crease appeared between his brows and his shoulders sagged a little. I wished at that moment that my mouth had a rewind button.
He clenched his jaw. “I’ll show you I can be serious. Just you wait.” Before I could try and assure him I was actually complementing him, he stormed off once again, and I was worried he had just dumped me.
Star
I was having a little trouble keeping up with the guy. He had disappeared more times than Criss Angel, and I was sitting there once again, waiting for his return. When he had left me this time, he had seemed to be on a mission to prove a point. What he failed to realise was that he had nothing to prove to me. Nothing at all.
I was already gone.
Sunk.
Hook line and sinker.
Done for. Get the picture?
On the stage, some pretty, black-haired girl was rocking out to Paramore’s “Misery Business” and making a great job of it, but I couldn’t relax. Where the hell had Fin gone? The girl received a loud applause but it came nowhere close to the reaction Fin had received. Music began to play once again; this time a mellow piano rang out around the room, and I guessed I would be watching another singer by myself.
It was getting ridiculous. I didn’t even bother to look up at the stage. That is until a familiar voice began to sing about someone being “Strange and Beautiful”. Slowly I turned my head. The lights on the stage weren’t as dazzling this time, and I gasped as my gaze locked with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed man I was falling for. His choice of the wonderful love song by Aqualung pretty much sealed my fate. He sang with such intensity that tears stung my eyes.
This was Fin being Fin. This wasn’t the strutting, pseudo rock god I’d observed on several previous occasions. This was the shy, vulnerable man I had met in my coffee shop, telling me he felt the same about me. Yes, it was happening fast, but I was helpless to stop myself, and judging by his song choice, he felt the same.
Wow.
He stood in the centre of the stage, holding onto the mic where it sat in the stand. The rest of the club ceased to exist. It was just Fin and me. Every so often, he closed his eyes, but then opened them again and locked his gaze on mine. My heart hammered in my chest and the intensity of what I felt for him in those moments terrified me, but what could I do? He had already stolen my heart.
It was a done deal.
I was transfixed as I absorbed the lyrics and the message he was sending me. There was no doubt in my mind that he intended me to hear them as his words. As the song ended, there was a silent pause and my heart leapt into my mouth. Remembering I was in a crowded club, I glanced around. Shit. Had the audience hated it? Then, one by one, people began banging their hands together. Soon whistles and cheers erupted around the room too, and I joined in the ovation. I didn’t care that tears were now leaving damp trails down my face.
Fin humbly nodded and thanked the audience before once again making his way to where I stood. My clapping slowed but the rest of the room continued to show their appreciation. He stepped slowly toward me with something akin to fea
r in his eyes.
Reaching out, he touched my cheek. “Well, hopefully that was less of an ego display and you saw some of the real me up there.”
Without uttering a single word, I threw my arms around his neck and crushed my lips to his. The crowd’s cheers gained fervour once again, and more whistles pierced the applause. His arms slipped around my waist and he pulled me into his body as he returned my passionate onslaught.
I pulled away and gazed into his eyes that were now somehow darker. “Can we get out of here?” I asked breathlessly.
“Absolutely. Come on.” He grabbed my hand and turned, but his way was blocked by two very large, very intimidating men.
Oh, shit.
Fin protectively pushed me behind him, and I peeked out to see what the hell was going on. If they were going to start trouble, I needed to get a good look at their faces so I could be a witness when the cops arrived.
“Evening, gents. What can I do for you?” Fin’s unwavering voice oozed confidence, even though I was a terrified, quaking mess behind him.
One of the men, tall…very tall and muscular, dressed all in black and with shaggy shoulder length hair, was the first to speak. “We’ve been watching you for a while now.” Huh? Oh, God. That does not sound good. Were they sent by his father? Would his father stoop so low?
Fin tilted his head to one side and his grip on my arm at his back tightened. “Have you now?”
“Aye. An’ we think you’re wasted.”
Drugs police? But we’ve only been drinking beer? Unless…oh, God. Someone spiked our drinks? I feel fine, though. I rifled around my head, trying to make sense of the situation. Maybe Fin was a drug addict and they’d been watching him. I mean, how well did I really know him? The urge to run came over me, along with a sense of impending doom.
“Oh? You do, eh?” Fin carried on in his firm and calm manner, giving nothing away.
I peeked around Fin’s large frame once again. The other guy, the slightly shorter but no less terrifying one of the pair, had a beard and a shaved head, was the one to speak. “Aye, that’s right. A bloke with a voice like that shouldn’t just be doing fucking karaoke. He should be heading up a fucking band.”
What the…?
Long-haired guy butted in again. “And we just happen to be sans singer at the moment.”
I leaned my head on Fin’s back and heaved a sigh of relief. Sans singer? Seriously? Is this some kind of bad joke?
Fin laughed, making his body vibrate and relax. I guess he was as relieved as I was. “Are you kidding me? I thought you were going to fucking beat me up or something.”
The two huge men burst into raucous laughter and I came out of hiding to witness not a beating, but a kind of bizarre male bonding as they all shook hands and laughed about Fin’s—and my—error of judgement. Fin introduced himself and me to the guys, and draped his arm around my shoulder casually now he had relaxed.
“Thanks, guys, but I honestly think you’ve got the wrong impression of me. I’m…I’m a lawyer, and I’m definitely not good enough to sing with a band. I do the karaoke thing for a laugh. I just—”
“You’re joking, aren’t you? Have you heard yourself sing, pal? You’re the fucking dog’s bollocks.” The huge man’s strong Scottish accent made me smile. I could listen to that accent all day.
I glanced up at Fin to see his face scrunched in disbelief. “Nah. It’s nice of you to say that, but honestly, I’m just not up to it.” He tried to push past them, pulling me along behind, but they were not letting him pass.
The other guy gestured wildly at Fin. “Come on, come on, Fin. Just come and meet the rest of the crew, eh? We all agree you’re the man for the job. You’re amazing, seriously. And I think you may be a wee bit surprised at what you discover about us. Just come and meet everyone, eh?”
Fin turned to face me and pleaded at me with his eyes. I smiled widely and cupped his cheek with my hand. “I’m sorry, Fin, but they’re right. You have an amazing voice. But it’s not just that. You’ve got stage presence. It’s like you become someone else up there. You should go talk to them.”
His eyes widened for a moment. “Really?”
“Really.”
“O-okay then. I think I will. Come on.”
The men, Nate—the long-haired one who played lead guitar—and Billy the bass player—the bald one, took us to a table where other members of their band sat, along with their girlfriends. Nate went to order a round of drinks, and Fin sat beside Billy and pulled me into his lap.
“So, tell me more about this band of yours,” Fin said, after the introductions were made.
“Well, we play for fun. We all have day jobs and we don’t take ourselves too seriously. The guy who was singing for us got fed up of playing. Can you believe it? Anyways, he went off to pursue his dream of opening a bloody deli in Kelso, and so we were left with Nate on vocals. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not bad but…well, we want him to be able to concentrate on lead guitar, and so we’ve been auditioning singers for around three months now.”
Nate returned with a tray full of drinks and handed them around. He handed me a bottle of beer and winked as he sat beside me. I felt my cheeks heat a little. I think I was still a little bit intimidated by the hulk of a guy.
“So, I take it none of the auditions have gone that well?” Fin said in response to Billy.
“Nah. But to be honest, we’ve had our eye on you,” Nate informed him.
Fin shook his head, gulped his beer, and glanced at me with a look of confusion. I shrugged. He turned back to Nate. “I…I don’t really get that.”
Nate and Billy exchanged glances before Nate began the story. “Okay, a wee while ago you were in here all dressed up like a fucking accountant or something. You looked pissed sitting with your mates. But then you somehow ended up on stage, singing like a fucking pro, man. It was like you’d been zapped by aliens or something. You know, given super powers or whatever. We were blown away. But you didn’t seem in the right frame of mind to be approached back then so we bided our time.”
“Aye, and then we’ve seen you a couple more times up there. You’ve got some kind of fucking split personality type of thing going on. Fuck…when you get up on that stage, you transform from this business suit wearing, serious, straight laced dude into a fucking rock god. It’s a freaky thing to watch. We all knew we wanted you for the band, but, well, it’s not the kind of thing you say to a total fucking stranger, is it? ‘Hey pal, you’re a freak, wanna sing in our band? You’ll fit right in.’” Everyone around the table laughed again.
Another guy who had been introduced as Titch the drummer—which, let me tell you was totally ironic considering the fact he was another giant—joined the conversation. “Look, Fin, we’re not under any illusions that we’re going to be rich and famous. But we love music and we know we’ve got potential. We just need the right guy up front once again so we can go out there and show folk what we’re made of.”
“And you think I’m the one to help you do that?” Fin didn’t sound convinced.
“We know you are, mate. If what we’ve seen you do up there on that stage…” He gestured to where a mousy-looking guy was singing “Karma Police” by Radiohead. “…is what you’re capable of in a karaoke club, then we can’t fucking wait to see what you do rocking out on a stage with a live band and original material.” The rest of the people around the table voiced their agreement with Titch.
Fin turned and gazed at me where I sat on his lap. His eyes were begging for me to say something. I stroked my finger down his cheek tenderly and smiled. “I agree with these guys. I think you should go for it.”
His eyes widened. “You do? Seriously?”
“Absolutely. They’re right. You are an amazing performer, Fin. You just need somewhere to showcase your talent. You have nothing to lose.”
He chewed his lip for a moment and then grinned. Turning back to the guys at the table, he held up his beer bottle. “What the hell. I’m in.” Everyone at the
table erupted into applause and cheers. Beer bottles were clinked, hands shaken, and backs slapped.
“So, what do you guys call this band of yours, anyway?”
Once again, the band members shared knowing glances. “Now, that’s the freaky part, mate. We’re called Hydde.”
Star
The rest of the evening was spent getting to know the guys from Hydde and making arrangements for them to meet up and rehearse. Numbers were swapped, many beers were consumed, and there were a lot of laughs. They were such a cool bunch, despite first impressions, and regardless of how patronising it may sound, I was so proud of Fin. I didn’t mind sharing his attention for the evening.
My new man, the rock god.
Because, let’s face it, I couldn’t resist him after he had sung especially for me, and I was going to give in. I was lying to myself if I thought otherwise. It somehow didn’t matter that the situation was escalating like a runaway train going downhill. I just hoped there were no huge branches on the track…
Just thinking about him on stage did funny things to my insides and made everything below my waistline ache for him. I had promised myself I wouldn’t jump back into bed with him so soon, but after that song, things had shifted. My whole world had tilted on its axis and the realisation had hit me that something in my life suddenly had the potential to have a huge impact. He felt like ‘the one’, and regardless of how much I told myself not to rush, my heart wasn’t listening. They say the heart wants what the heart wants, and my heart wanted to ignore my head and go full pelt, head first into the deep with this guy who seemed to have some kind of dual personality.
But that just made him all the more attractive and mysterious.
It turned out the name they had chosen for the band, Hydde, hadn’t been some kind of happy accident. Their band personae were their badass alter-egos. Nate, the lead guitarist, was an I.T. consultant by day, Billy was a Math teacher, and Titch—whose given name was David—was a property developer. The double ‘d’ had been added to the name in honour of Nate’s wife, Sandy’s, breasts. The guys thought this was hilarious, whilst Sandy and I simply rolled our eyes as they guffawed like the teenage boys they still were deep down.
Duplicity Page 12
