by S. H. Kolee
"Thanks for coming out tonight," he said, his deep and rumbling voice magnified by the microphone. "I'm Simon and I'm honored to be a part of the Henchmen. We've got some favorites that I'm sure you're familiar with, along with some new songs. We hope you enjoy it."
Simon started strumming the beginning to a song I knew by heart as Grant and Marcus joined in. It was one of the Henchmen's more popular songs and the crowd went crazy when they recognized it. As Simon played the intro, he was scanning the crowd. His eyes locked on mine and I gave him a half-hearted smile, not sure how well he could see into the crowd. Simon winked and quirked his mouth, as if he were finding amusement in the whole thing and sharing the humor with me. I flushed at his attention and quickly took a sip of my beer, breaking eye contact.
When I looked up again, Simon was back to gazing at the crowd with half-lidded eyes. Then he started singing.
I felt my insides clench at his voice. Abe had been a good singer but Simon was in a whole other category. Simon's voice was at times like gilded velvet, flowing over you seductively as the soothing quality of his voice took your breath away. Other times it was harsh and raspy, calling on raw emotion as you felt every word he was singing. He captivated the audience, standing on the stage like he owned it.
I surveyed the crowd and saw the rapt attention everyone was giving the band, listening with awe, and then screaming with fervor when the Henchmen would hit a fast and hard part of the song.
"Good grief," Sarah said, leaning over and talking closely into my ear so I could hear her over the crowd. "Simon is freaking amazing. I think I just fell in love with him along with every other girl in here."
I gave her a small smile. "Yeah, he's really good," I said. I couldn't help but feel a little sad because I knew that Simon was no longer mine. Not that he had been mine to begin with, but I doubted that he would pay such singular attention to me now that the campus of Maxwell had discovered his existence. Someone as golden as Simon, entrancing the crowd, didn't fit in my world. A world where I was focused on graduating, getting a job and figuring out a way to live my life as normally as possible.
But it wasn't just the fact that Simon seemed untouchable now. I had been lucky that I hadn't had a vision of him since we had met, but it was only a matter of time until I had one again. I usually kept having visions of someone as long as I still had contact with that person. It was a miracle that I hadn't had another one of Simon yet.
So this distance I felt opening up between us shouldn't depress me. I told myself this was a good thing even though I could feel a hard ball of unhappiness starting to form in the pit of my stomach.
"I changed my mind," Sarah breathed out as Grant started his drum solo. "Simon's second in line." She watched Grant with glowing eyes as he worked the drum set, his hands a blur as he feverishly pounded out a frenetic beat. I sighed softly to myself. I guess I wasn't the only one with problems.
Grant's solo came to an end and the Henchmen finished the song to thunderous approval from the crowd. I clapped until my hands tingled as Sarah and Jenny joined in the hooting and hollering. Despite my depressing thoughts, I was glad that Simon was receiving such a positive response from the fans.
"This next song is a new one," Simon said into the microphone. "Let me know if you like it," he said with a wink. A slow smile curved his lips as the girls went wild.
The next song was slower than the first one, almost ballad-like. I let his honeyed words flow over me, content to be just one of the throngs now. Simon was amazing and he was my friend. I was happy for him.
She's a siren beckoning me
Tempting me to follow her out into the sea
Resistance a thought that never revealed itself
Drowning a fear I never believed
She draws me closer to the edge
Her eyes guiding my soul
It's either a promise or curse
My need embraces both
Simon's voice was hypnotic, as was evidenced by the crowd swaying along, swept up in the beauty of his voice. The melody of the song was haunting, the lyrics weaving a tale of love or destruction, I wasn't sure which. I felt tension starting to rise in me as I listened to his words which were eerily connected to my vision of him. I tried to block out the images and concentrate on the song. Simon's eyes were hooded as he looked out into the crowd and I felt a jolt as he locked eyes with me, his normally bright blue eyes dark and piercing, skewering me to the spot so that I couldn't move. Could hardly breathe.
I can't deny her
I won't deny her
Even if she denies me
Slowly and smoothly I slip below
Her raven hair my guide into the underworld
She breathes for me as my body stops
Our breaths become one
This is happiness for me
As I follow her out to sea
Resistance is unfamiliar
Drowning is forgotten
I can't deny her
I won't deny her
Even if she denies me
I felt fear and desire warring inside of me. Fear because his words were dangerously close to the vision I had seen of him dying. Drowning was one of the worst ways to see a person die, the struggling and fear in their eyes slicing through me. But desire was winning over the fear. Simon's eyes were locked solely on me, never wavering, and I couldn't deny him. I stood rooted to the floor, staring back. I was vaguely aware of people looking around, trying to see who he was staring so intently at and the excited rumblings of those close by as they realized it was me. I heard Jenny gasp and clutch my arm, but it was as if I was numb to everything except Simon's voice and penetrating gaze.
She enchanted me with her raven hair
Her eyes a promise and a curse
The promise was absolution
The curse was completion
That's the end of my forgotten tale
From the deep dark depths below
The light above has faded
Silence filling the air
But I can't deny her
I won't deny her
Even if she denies me
Simon finished the song on a whisper and the crowd erupted in cheers. This broke me out of my trance and I quickly looked away, breaking the connection between us that seemed tangible.
"Holy shit," Sarah murmured in amazement. I quickly looked at Sarah and she shook her head slowly. "I think I just witnessed Simon's declaration to you. I thought 'making love with his eyes' was just an expression but I've just seen it."
Jenny clutched my hand as the Henchmen started an upbeat song. "You better make me a bridesmaid."
"You guys!" I protested. Now that the magic of the song had receded, I cringed at how idiotic I must have looked, gazing at Simon in adoration. The fact that he had been staring back didn't minimize the embarrassment. It heightened it. "That's what singers do. They connect with the crowd. We barely know each other. Simon just chose someone to sing the song to and it happened to be me."
Sarah looked at me with a sympathetic smile. "Poor girl. Simon's made her go brain dead."
I laughed, feeling like I could finally take a full breath again since Simon's song. I was overreacting. It didn't help that Sarah and Jenny were overreacting as well. It was a beautiful song but Simon wasn't singing it to me. I looked up onstage and Simon was fervently playing his guitar, passionately singing a song about love and betrayal. He worked the crowd, making eye contact with fans as his gaze moved around, making each person think he was singing solely to them for that moment. Simon was a performer. And he had given a brilliant performance with me, letting every girl imagine what it would be like for him to sing solely to them. He had just chosen me as the vessel.
Comforted by my rationalization, I was able to watch the rest of the show with enjoyment and pride for my friends. They played a mixture of old and new songs and they really did sound amazing. While the group with Abe as the lead singer had been fun to listen to, Simon drew you in almost hypnoticall
y. Combined with Grant's skilled drumming and Marcus' steady but pounding bass playing, I had a feeling that the East End was going to packed whenever they performed.
Sarah, Jenny and I had moved over and snagged seats at the bar by the time the guys were done playing and disappeared behind the stage. It had gotten a little too hot in the crowd, and even though my top was sleeveless, I was feeling the affects of wearing a turtleneck.
"Remind me never to wear a turtleneck to a bar again," I said, pinching the neck of my sweater and stretching it out so that a waft of cool air hit my heated neck. "This is why I wear t-shirts all the time."
Sarah laughed as she glanced at my sweater. "You should've chosen the other shirt I picked out for you." Sarah had tried to convince me to wear a halter top but I had compromised with the sleeveless turtleneck.
"No thanks," I replied drily. "I don't want to wear a man-hunting shirt when the only thing I'm hunting is a good time with my friends."
Jenny nodded towards the stage. "I think Simon would hunt you in a paper bag." I looked over and saw that the guys had emerged from backstage and were surrounded by fans wanting to snatch a precious moment with them. Simon had the most people swarming around him, and I couldn't help but notice the majority of them were girls. He was smiling and engaging in conversations with them and I turned back to Jenny, leaning an arm on the bar.
"I think he's the one being hunted, not me," I said, rolling my eyes, ignoring my displeasure at the scene I had just turned away from.
"Spoken too soon," Sarah said under her breath as I felt a hand snake around my waist and whip me around.
"What did you think, babe?" Simon asked, with a big grin, He was leaning over me, his head close to mine, so that I could hear him over the noisy bar. His hair falling over his forehead was damp with perspiration. The smell of his cologne combined with his warmth was intoxicating. Simon's arm was wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer than I thought was appropriate. But his wide smile and boyish enthusiasm was infectious. Simon asked the question as if he was asking for my approval. The thought that my opinion mattered to him banished the protest that would have normally met his intimate touch.
"You were adequate, I guess," I replied airily, trying to suppress my answering smile. Then I laughed. "Oh, you know you were amazing. You don't need me to stroke your ego."
Simon grinned even wider. "I don't think I have to worry about an inflated ego with you around to always keep it in check." He nodded towards the beer I was still clutching, trapped between our bodies. "You need another one?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm good." He let me go and I couldn't help but feel a little bereft by the loss of contact.
Marcus came up behind Simon. "Grant snagged a table. We can all order from there." He smiled at Jenny, and she hopped off the stool by the bar to follow him. Sarah didn't need much convincing and followed Marcus as he made his way through the crowd. He and Simon were stopped frequently along the way by people complimenting them on their performance. Simon walked behind me, his hand on the small of my back guiding me, and I felt a burning warmth where his hand lay. It made me feel as if he was enveloping me in his personal space, separating us from all the people coming up to him.
Grant was sitting at a table, but he wasn't alone. There were two girls sitting with him, obviously groupies. The table barely fit the six chairs they had dragged around it, and now two of the chairs were occupied by girls fawning over Grant. When they saw us walk over, their eyes lit up as they spotted Simon and Marcus.
"Hi guys," one of the girls said breathily. Her bleached blonde hair fell well below her shoulders and her halter top showed off every asset. It made the halter top that Sarah had tried to convince me to wear earlier look like a nun's habit. I uncharitably thought that it was about time for the blonde to touch up her roots. She patted the chair next to her, her eyes zeroing in on Simon. "Have a seat. I want to hear all about your new songs."
Simon ignored her and arched a brow at Grant. I glanced over at Sarah and saw that she looked a bit pale. Although Grant wasn't a playboy, when he was off-again with Cara he enjoyed the attention of his female fans.
Grant got the message from Simon's look and turned to the girls. "Thanks for the compliments but these seats are reserved." He glanced over at Sarah but she averted her eyes. Grant turned back to the groupies. "Our ladies are here."
The blonde's friend, a similarly scantily clad brunette, looked up at us in contempt but grabbed her friend's hand and stood up, drawing her up with her. The blonde wasn't as easily deterred and stopped in front of Simon, placing her hand on his chest and looking up at him flirtatiously. "You were amazing tonight," she said, biting her lower lip, undoubtedly to bring attention to her mouth. My fist itched to punch that mouth, which surprised me. The surge of jealousy rising in me felt unfamiliar. "I'd love to hear more. Privately."
Simon shifted his hand from the small of my back to around my waist, pulling me close so that my side was plastered against his. "Sorry, I only give private shows to a select few," he said, looking and sounding bored. Then he looked down at me, squeezing me even closer as his face was transformed by a goofy lopsided smile that made my heart skip a beat. "Raven-haired sirens included."
Simon's words made me weak in the knees. I was sure if Simon hadn't been supporting me, I would have melted into a sentimental puddle on the floor. The way he said such heart-wrenching things with ease took my breath away.
The blonde's eyes narrowed as she allowed her friend to pull her away. They stomped off, swallowed by the crowd until they disappeared.
"Well," I said a little breathlessly. "That's one way to get rid of a groupie."
Simon eyes assessed me. "I didn't say anything for her benefit."
I chose not to respond to that comment because my mouth wouldn't formulate a response. Our friends had all sat down at the table, but they were watching us. Obviously, they had seen the whole exchange with the blonde, which meant they were also witness to Simon's comments. Face flaming, I was glad that it was relatively dim in the bar as I took a seat. Simon sat next to me, propping an arm around the back of my chair. As usual.
"How did the first official performance of the reincarnated Henchmen feel?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation onto a safe topic.
"It was fun. The crowd was really receptive. I thought there might be some lingering loyalty to Abe that would get in the way of people giving me a chance, but they seemed pretty accepting." Simon nodded his head for a beer when Janice stopped by to take everyone's order.
"You must have performed a lot to be so comfortable onstage."
Simon shrugged. "I've performed a decent amount with the other bands I've been in. Nothing serious. It just feels natural to me, I guess."
"So is your dream to make it big and get a major recording contract so that you can trash hotel rooms and smash guitars onstage?" I joked.
Simon laughed. "Honestly, I'm not sure. Yeah, it'd be great to get signed but if it doesn't happen, I'll be perfectly content to play small venues. I've even given some thought to opening a guitar school if the stage starts to get old."
I gave Simon a skeptical look. I couldn't imagine his larger than life charm and charisma being boxed into something as square as teaching guitar. "I can't imagine that," I said, smirking. "To deprive the world of Simon Crewe? It's unimaginable."
Simon smiled. "I'm sure the earth will still continue to rotate on its axis even if I'm teaching eight-year-olds the G chord."
It was comforting to know that Simon wasn't addicted to the attention. That he saw a life beyond it. It made him seem human again. In my mind, seeing Simon on stage had opened a yawning chasm between us. But he seemed reachable again. I had to remind myself that I shouldn't be reaching for him.
"Still," I said lightly. "You're so good up there. It would be a shame if you didn't pursue it. Did you write all the new songs you guys played tonight?"
"Some. A few of them were half-finished and the guys helped me out with them this
past summer."
I got the feeling that Simon was being generous crediting Grant and Marcus with some of the songwriting, but I didn't comment on it. I wanted to ask him about the raven-haired siren song, but I knew that was dangerous territory. So I kept the conversation about Simon. "You write your own songs, you're an amazing singer and you're a genius on the guitar." I shook my head. "Isn't there anything you can't do?"
"I can't cook," he reminded me. "Remember? That's where you come in."
"We'll see," I replied. "I get the feeling that you're going to become far too busy to learn how to cook. Now that the new Henchmen has been unleashed, I doubt you'll have time to putter around in the kitchen."
Simon's voice dropped but his intensity deepened, suddenly shifting the conversation away from the lighthearted banter. "Remember, I'm not afraid to ask for what I want," he said, his eyes glittering. "And I want you."
I took a sharp intake of breath and looked around the table to see if anyone had overheard him. The others were too busy laughing and joking around to notice us.
"Simon," I started slowly, not wanting to hurt his feelings and trying to hold on to the shred of self-control I had left. "I'm flattered. I really am. But-"
