Unrequited

by Emma Grey

  He starts to wonder, although he knows he shouldn’t, if Kat hadn’t come along when she did . . .

  What exquisitely bad timing this is.

  Chapter 45

  Angus arrives at the recording studio twenty minutes early, drills the staff on the need for total secrecy and paces the room until the sound technician jokes that he’s going to wear out a track in the carpet. He’s recorded here before, with the same techs, and they’ve never seen him so wired.

  ‘When she gets here, I want us all to make her feel at ease, okay?’ he says. ‘This is her first time in a recording studio. First time recording anything. She’s likely to be anxious. I know I was.’

  Still am, he thinks. Today, especially. Not just about the music, though he always has an adrenaline rush over that. He’s rattled because he wants to undo the other night, and can’t. He wants to tell her exactly how he feels, and won’t. More than anything, he just wants to kiss her again, and currently doesn’t have a strategic plan on how to avoid that. Other than willpower. And lots of it.

  When she arrives, she looks like she’s barely slept, and he feels terrible. She walks into the room, avoids his gaze and busies herself looking for somewhere to put her bag. It’s bulging with a beach towel, and — try as he might to avoid it, Angus’s eyes are drawn to the aqua straps of the bikini top that she’s wearing under her sundress, tied in a bow behind her neck. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere other than here, which is bad. This is supposed to be one of the most exciting moments of her life.

  What has he done?

  ‘Kat . . .’

  ‘Let’s just get this over with,’ she says, looking at him with a mix of anger and hurt that practically sucks all the air out of his lungs. They sit at the piano and have a practice run. It’s okay, except she makes several mistakes and he misses a few notes and every time her arm brushes his while they play, he almost forgets his own name. Her voice is strained, like she’s trying not to cry.

  Right. He’s the professional here. He should know how to fix this. He’s performed before when worrying stuff has been going on in his personal life. He’s always managed to get out of his head and into the music. That’s what they need to do now.

  ‘Do you think this is a good idea?’ she asks, breaking into his thoughts.

  ‘Kat — it’s a career-launching idea. We need to do this for you.’

  ‘You don’t have to. Not if you don’t want to.’

  He takes a long, slow breath and turns to look at her. ‘I’ve never wanted anything more. I want you to know how important this is to me.’ How important you are to me.

  ‘It’s important to me too,’ she admits eventually.

  ‘Okay, so let’s do it. A trick I’ve learnt is that whatever’s on your mind — whatever emotions you’re going through — just pour it all into the music. Good and bad, whether it suits the song or not.’

  She nods. And looks even sadder. But she sounds a million times better when they start singing again, and he follows her lead and lifts his own performance, relieved they’re back on track. In one way, at least.

  Kat might be furious, but there’s only so much excitement she can hide. Her first recording! He can almost feel her skin tingling from the thrill.

  After an hour, they take a break and Kat and a couple of the recording staff head for a coffee shop. Angus can’t go with them. He’ll be noticed. The last thing they need now is an audience.

  When she gets back, she’s carrying two coffees. One for him.

  ‘Peace offering?’ he asks.

  She hands it to him. Wordlessly.

  ‘Is that the hint of a smile, Kat?’

  She frowns.

  Maddening. She’s so poker-faced he can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

  Then she says, ‘Let’s finish this,’ and he realises she is serious. The smile will not be forthcoming and he feels like she’s punched him in the gut. Worse, technically he punched himself in the gut by behaving like such an idiot the other night.

  By some miracle, they nail the song. Nail it. Probably because he’s slightly mad at her now, and she’s clearly fuming, and there’s all this unspoken angst and a vast swathe of tension between them where a kiss should be. No — where it will be if they don’t get out of this confined space soon. And that would be disastrous. Reuben said to stop with the mixed messages, and Neala had backed him up in a separate conversation the next day. So he’s stopped. And it’s like he’s cut off his right arm. It’s not even helping anyway. His mouth might be silent, but his body language isn’t. Nor is hers . . .

  Angus notices Kat glancing through the window when the door opens in the other room. It’s Joel. What’s he doing here? Did she invite him? Maybe she let the security guys know to expect him. Kat is instantly flustered, in a way that becomes her — a lot — except that the fluster isn’t directed at Angus this time. His heart sinks.

  ‘You okay?’ he asks, and she nods in a way that suggests that no, she isn’t, but she’s not going to talk about it.

  ‘What do we do next?’ she asks.

  ‘Well, the producers will create a demo. We can meet up after that, if you’d like. Go through it together?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Also, Kat — I know this is going to sound, well . . . potentially terrifying. But, hear me out.’

  She looks alarmed already!

  ‘I really think we should unveil the song at an Unrequited concert. We wouldn’t tell anyone first. We’d just do it.’

  Now she looks panic-stricken. And no wonder. There are only two concerts left on the Australian tour. One of them is tonight! He knows it’s a huge call to ask her to do this. When he started with the band, they started small. They never played to packed stadiums straight away.

  ‘Once you’re on that stage and the lights are up, you can hardly even see the audience. You can hear them, but really it’s all about the music. And you’re awesome with the music. I’d make sure it’s okay for you.’

  She still looks terrified.

  ‘Why don’t I reserve you a couple of backstage passes to the concert tonight? Just have a look. We’re due on stage about nine. You could come along and pay attention this time.’ He winks.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she says quickly. ‘I really got that wrong. I mean, I love Paloma Faith, but I went into your concert judging you and the band.’

  He laughs. ‘It’s okay, Lizzy Bennet! We’re not everyone’s thing!’

  ‘Well, you are mine,’ she says. ‘Now.’

  He bows slightly. ‘Well, thank you.’

  ‘I guess it couldn’t hurt to take a closer look,’ she says. ‘Watching it from the wings would help a bit. I could bring my friend.’

  ‘Great!’

  ‘Angus. Do you realise what you’re asking me to do?’

  ‘Yes. And I understand the magnitude of it.’

  ‘I’m not confident enough to sing on stage with you this soon. Not this tour. I’ll come along tonight but please don’t pressure me to do it.’

  He goes to take her hand but backs off, remembering Reuben’s instructions about mixed messages. ‘I’d never pressure you to do anything.’

  Chapter 46

  What a torturous morning!

  The newness of the recording process is exhausting, but Kat’s even more worn out by the effort of restraining herself. She so wanted to demand an explanation from Angus. An explanation about the other night.

  On the upside, at least he turned up at the recording studio. That was better than she’d expected after he’d thrown her out the way he did. Maybe the tabloids aren’t fictional after all. Maybe he really does churn through relationships and dump girls faster than he can pick them up. Which is pretty fast.

  Seeing him in his element, though — watching the way he talks to the producers and sound tech guys — she can’t help but respect him on that front. He’s a professional. It’s obvious he’s been doing this stuff for years. He makes it look so easy.

  It’s anyt
hing but. She’s so tired by the time they call it quits, she could sleep the whole afternoon. Of course, that’s not possible because she has a lunch date and a swim planned in Coogee, with Joel. Who is here.

  Something doesn’t feel right about this. She watches through the window, as the sound guys switch the lights off and head outside with Joel. Kat collects her things and Angus asks if she’s ready to go. She’s just about to step around the tangle of microphones and cords when the lights flick off in the studio. The air conditioning powers down, too.

  Is it a blackout? There’s a second or two, while their eyes are adjusting to the darkness. And then silence. All she can hear is their breathing. And she wonders why he isn’t opening the door.

  ‘Sorry. Can’t find the door handle . . .’ he says.

  ‘Angus, this isn’t funny.’

  ‘I’m not trying to be funny. I can’t find it.’

  ‘Haven’t you been here before?’

  ‘Yeah, this booth and a heap just like it around the world. Sometimes the door handles in these rooms are tricky.’

  Tricky?

  She reaches out and grapples with the blackness. These studios are not only soundproof but lightproof when the power’s off. It’s not as easy as it appears. There’s nothing to grab onto. Not even a wall. And then her hands find Angus. Not deliberately, but he’s right there, and next thing she knows, she’s feeling the outline of his chest through his T-shirt. Just so she can get her bearings. Or so she tells herself.

  ‘You right there, Kat?’ he says, up close, and she notes he’s not laying a finger on her.

  ‘Sorry! Just trying to work out where you are.’

  ‘I’m here,’ he says, and she wonders if she’s imagining that his voice is lower, suddenly. More to the point, she wonders if he’s deliberately trying to be attractive.

  ‘Are you deliberately trying to be attractive, Angus?’

  ‘No. Are you?’

  She appears to have left her hands carelessly spread across his chest and is too embarrassed to remove them, but it’s okay, because he appears to be removing them for her. More embarrassment.

  ‘I’ve got you,’ he says, holding her hand in the pitch-dark so they don’t lose each other. He pats his other hand along the wall, searching for the way out. A big part of her really doesn’t want him to find it, and she’s not meant to be feeling this way! In fact, that same part of her wants him to stop searching altogether, pull her in and kiss her again the way he did in his hotel room. Even if he gets cold feet again afterwards and that’s the end of it.

  But there’s no opportunity for that because the door suddenly flings open and bright light blinds both of them. Once her eyes adjust, she sees Joel standing there, apologising for opening the door. He didn’t think anyone was still in there, but was just checking. He thought she might have had second thoughts about their date.

  Kat feels Angus gently let go of her hand, and can’t describe how bereft that gesture leaves her.

  ‘Right. That’s my cue to go,’ he says. ‘Great session this morning, Kat. I’ll get our team to set those tickets aside.’

  And he’s gone.

  ‘Hungry?’ Joel asks as they leave the studio in his car.

  No matter what else is going on, she really is. ‘I was so petrified this morning, I couldn’t eat breakfast, and now it’s over, I’m starving!’

  ‘We can’t have that. What do you feel like?’

  ‘Fish and chips on the beach,’ she answers, quickly. ‘With aioli. And a freshly squeezed orange juice. With ice.’

  He laughs. ‘You can’t be more specific?’

  ‘You asked!’

  ‘How did it go this morning?’

  Her mind flits straight to the dark studio. Angus holding her hand. The hint of his cologne, which she can still smell . . . but that’s not what Joel is asking about.

  ‘It was a bit difficult at first, but we got there in the end. He’s asked me to watch tonight’s concert from backstage. He wants us to launch the song at an Unrequited concert before they leave the country. Can you even imagine?’

  Joel can’t, as it happens. ‘How do you feel about that?’

  ‘You know how there are different levels of nervousness? Like, maybe you’re nervous before a maths test or before a party or a date or an interview for a weekend job? This is nothing like any of those times. This is getting up on stage with Unrequited. In front of ninety thousand of their screaming fans who may or may not appreciate the fact that another girl is onstage with their idols . . . and SINGING in front of those fans. On my own.’

  ‘You won’t be on your own. You’ll have Angus.’

  The thought brings her a microscopic amount of comfort. ‘I’ve been wanting this forever, but in reality I’ve only ever been in the chorus, Joel. I’m used to safety in numbers!’

  ‘Maybe it’s time to get out of your comfort zone. You have a stunning voice. You’re a brilliant songwriter. However you feel about your lack of experience, you’re not being carried by Angus. You sing like his equal. I saw that the other night. I’m not just saying this, Kat — I honestly couldn’t tell which one of you was the star.’

  She finds that hard to believe, but wants to.

  They drive on in silence for a while, and it’s comfortable. He’s so nice. He’s caring. He’s patient. He’s smart and good-looking and supportive. On paper, he’s everything a seventeen-year-old should be looking for in a boyfriend, surely. So why is it suddenly not enough?

  A highlight reel of her time with Angus flashes rebelliously through her mind: him flirting with her out of thousands of fans at the concert, her ignoring him, him chasing after her in the venue afterwards, then tweeting about her. The accidental songwriting. The way it feels when they sing together. The way he ditched his night out with the band to stay in with her.

  The kiss . . .

  Holding hands in the dark. The feel of his muscles under his T-shirt. The fact that she’s not clear where she stands with him. The risks he’s taking and the mountains he’s moving to help launch her career . . .

  ‘Kat? Hello?’

  Oh! ‘Sorry. What were you saying?’

  He’s parking the car beachside. He pulls on the handbrake. ‘Shall we go?’

  She unhooks her seatbelt and wonders what she’s heading into here. Whatever it is, she’s utterly unprepared for it.

  They walk along the promenade, towards the main street, in search of a takeaway shop. She entertains herself with the thought that this may be the last time she’ll walk along this particular beachside path before she’s famous . . . Then she chastises herself for being so forward, even in her imagination. And for thinking about this stuff at all when she should be fully occupied working out what she really wants here. Or who she wants!

  He orders fish, chips, aioli and orange juice with ice. She insists on paying half. Then they make their way down to the steps near the beach and sit there, unwrapping the feast.

  She smiles at him. ‘I LOVE fresh takeaway.’

  He does, too. And he appears to love her enthusiasm for it just as much. There’s that seeping sense of guilt again.

  They take their time, eating until they’re full, then tossing bits to the seagulls who squawk and flap around them. But it’s like there’s an elephant on the beach, and she doesn’t know how to raise things with him. She really needs to tell him . . .

  ‘Swim?’ he suggests, and she wants to. Or would want to, anyway, if this wasn’t a date. If she was there alone or just with her friends, she would. The thought of stripping off to her bikini with Joel right beside her is mega intimidating now, and not because he’s making it so. He’s not. He’s letting her call all the shots.

  ‘Actually . . . can we just walk?’

  He smiles. ‘Of course.’

  They jump up and brush the sand off, dump the rubbish in the bin and head towards the cliff path. On the way there, Kat tries to work out how on earth she’s going to handle this. She should just tell him. Now.
/>   But she can’t think how to say it, and at some point during their walk up the hill, Joel takes her hand. There’s a part of her that thinks how nice that is. How stereotypically romantic. But that part of her is being drowned out by another voice — is ‘nice’ really enough?

  They reach the top of the hill and stand on the cliff face, overlooking the ocean. This should be the most romantic situation Kat’s ever been in, but, right at that moment, she knows there’s something radically missing.

  And she knows it’s not something . . . it’s someone. She looks at Joel and it occurs to her that she’s suddenly right in the middle of one of the first real, ‘adult’ moments in her life. She can pretend to be on this date — let him think she’s on the same page as he is when really she’s not. Or she can grow up, right now, and say what she needs to say, even though it’s one of the hardest things she’s ever had to say to anyone. She just wants a fast-forward button to get it done.

  She opens her mouth to speak — and that’s when he takes a step towards her and puts his arms around her, drawing her close. Panicked, she looks at him. The boy from the train. McDreamy. The one she thought was ‘The One’. The one who’s turned out to be not quite right for her, but only because she’s comparing him with someone else. He’s fantastic and so deserving of a better match than her. She knows she has to let him down. She just doesn’t know how to do it.

  ‘Can I kiss you, Kat?’ he asks, and she thinks ‘No. You can’t,’ but the words won’t come out of her mouth and he’s taking her silence as permission and leaning in now and it’s almost too late.

  Finally, with millimetres between them, she finds her voice. ‘Stop! Joel! I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.’

  The surprising thing is that right when she’s saying this, she could almost swear she hears him say, ‘Kat — sorry. This doesn’t feel right . . .’