The Hush Society Presents...

by Izzy Matias

  "What a horrible crowd," Amber says to us. "No way am I performing tonight. Not to that."

  "I am so sorry you guys had to experience that," Cassie says. "What a rude guy."

  "Win some, lose some." Kai shrugs, but gives Benji, Eric, and I slaps on the back.

  "I need to get a pint," I say, excusing myself.

  A different bartender gives me my pint as I sulk on the barstool.

  "Not so great, ey?" The middle-aged man says.

  My body crumples further into my arms. I huff.

  "Musicians are a dime a dozen, I tell ye. Now business, there’s a lot of opportunity in there if ye ask me!" he says, beaming at me. I don’t need a ghost of my Dad echoing me at this moment of defeat.

  It’s as if he’s punched my gut. "Thanks for the tip," I say, hoping he can read into my sarcasm as I pay for my pint and neck most of it down.

  "Yer welcome, young lad." His voice is chipper. "Simply passin’ on wisdom."

  I huff, abandon my unfinished pint, and walk out the pub. Outside, the cold air slaps my face. The streetlights dampen the cement with an eerie, haunting glow. The silhouettes are menacing shadows that threaten the night.

  I pull out my mobile from my pocket and turn it on. I’m surprised when a message from Lily comes in.

  Lily: Hey, Cameron. Was having a rough night, but then listened to a video snippet of Brick Walls on my mobile. Put a smile on my face and reminded me that I actually have a song written for me. So, err, yeah, thank you. The world needs musicians like you.

  After I re-read her message a couple of times, I fire up a reply thanking her. She didn’t have to tell me this, but she did. It’s as if she knew that I, too, need the pick me up.

  Her words are the wake-me-up I need. Of course it isn’t going to be easy; I’ve always known that. There will be haters. There will be nights like this, but it should not stop me. So what if those people in there don’t like us? That’s not my bloody goal, to be liked by the whole world.

  My purpose is to create music that helps people through tough times. With music, I have an opportunity to give back, to spread the positive message and do more than I thought I’d ever do.

  I laugh aloud. I must look like a pissed idiot, but I don’t care. This is my life—nobody else’s. I can’t control how people react to what I do.

  Then it hits me: how many other budding musicians don’t have that encouraging voice to help them through their self-doubt? Maybe there’s another way to give back that goes beyond dedicating or writing songs…

  I glance around looking for the lad who heckled us tonight, but don’t find him anywhere. I have this weird urge to thank him.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I sit on the cool cement pavement. Above me, the grey clouds begin their slow shift to reveal a yellowish full moon. I inhale deep and allow myself to stay in this moment, let my mind wander.

  There’s guitar strumming—an acoustic version of a metal song—and the boisterous chatter of a pub. Someone opens the door from The Seven Mermaids. A couple of footsteps approach.

  A silhouette shadows behind me, but when I turn around to see who it is, that person has taken a seat beside me.

  "All right?" Cassie asks.

  "Had to clear the nasty thoughts outside," I explain.

  "Don't let anyone else tell you that your music’s horrible. That lad was rude. And very pissed." Her hand lingers on my shoulder.

  "Thanks, Cass. I shouldn’t expect everyone to like The Fortunate Only," I say.

  She pats my back.

  "Lily messaged me tonight. She said some really encouraging things—enough to get me through tonight."

  "Your music matters, Cameron."

  "Thanks," I say and rub my hands together. "It got me thinking about other musicians out there who are beginning their journey…I wonder how many of them give up right away because of self-doubt. Because of their insecurities. And what a shame that is, because what if they’ve so much potential and they throw it away, just like that?"

  Cassie simply nods, allowing me to continue.

  "Then there’s The Hush Society who gives musicians a chance," I glance at her with a grateful look. She breaks into a smile. I almost want to squeeze her hand. "It’s all so inspiring. It makes me want to do something more with my music, you know? Not just write songs from personal experience, but help other musicians out there."

  "How so?" Cassie says, titling her head towards me.

  "What if…what if we started a group within The Hush Society or a partner group that helped these budding musicians? What if we could mentor them through times like what I went through?"

  "I love that idea," Cassie says with wide eyes. "It fits so perfectly with The Hush Society."

  "It could be a support group of sorts."

  "Just when I think you couldn’t give me another shock, you do." Cassie laughs.

  "I hope it’s a good kind of shock," I say and nudge her back.

  "It is," she says, smiling, and stares at me.

  I grin back.

  A loud group of people turn from an alley into our street. We both turn to look at them.

  "Want to go for a walk?" she asks.

  "Sure," I say, getting up. I offer her my hand and she takes it. "Where are we headed?"

  "Anywhere."

  We spend the first few minutes in comfortable silence with our hands entwined. I stare at our hands. Is she ready to let me in? Am I breaking through her no-musicians rule? I try not to overthink this, so I stay silent.

  My face warms. How I want to write a song about this moment. "So what made you come outside?" I ask.

  A strange look passes her face, like she’s not quite sure whether or not to share what she’s thinking. "I had to get outta there," she says finally. It’s like vomit the way it comes out of her mouth. "Toby was inside."

  I let go of her hand.

  Toby?

  "So, so stupid. I hate how he still has this power over me," she continues, and I flinch. Is that why she let me hold her hand? To make some lad jealous?

  I never imagined Cassie would react like this because of a lad. She seems so confident and sure of herself. One of the things I fancy about her.

  "The past is the past," I say. "If he hurt you, he’s not worth your present."

  "How do you get over someone who you were never even officially with?"

  Is she really asking me for advise, or is this a rhetorical question? I don’t respond, thinking it’s the latter. Is Toby the reason why she doesn’t date musicians anymore?

  "How did you two meet?" I ask. Maybe it’s time to finally find out.

  "At one of my mates’ house parties back in College. She had invited a couple of bands to play and he was one of the performers. We hardly talked that night, but we kept on bumping into each other."

  It must be him, then.

  But I know I need to be a good friend—Ha! A friend who held her hand!—so I let her ramble on.

  "One day, we saw each other at a bus stop. He sat next to me on the bus and we ended up talking for hours. We started going out on dates. I’d go to his band practices. It was right around the time I began The Hush Society, so I asked him to be one of our artists. They blew up not too long after that."

  She doesn’t look at me as she tells me all this.

  "They were always booked for gigs. Some days I wouldn’t hear at all from him, but when he was back in town, he’d come to me and it’s like he never left. Until one day, he just wasn’t there. At first, I thought he was busy—well, of course he was—but then four months ago one of my mates told me he had a serious girlfriend."

  By the time she finishes her tale, my face is hot with anger. My free hand clenches and unclenches. What an arsehole. So now I finally know why she swears off musicians.

  "I’m an such idiot!" she says.

  I stop, and flinch at that line. She doesn’t say anything, so I take a hard look at her. Under the hard yellow lamppost, her face is red. "We better head back," I sugge
st.

  "Yeah."

  She can tell there’s an invisible rift between us now—a weird mix of emotions hanging in the air.

  I stop again and she turns around. "What is it?"

  "Can you handle going back if the plonker is in there?" I say.

  She bursts out laughing. "Right about now, all I want is to go back in there."

  I put my hands on her shoulders. "You’re embarrassed."

  She nods.

  "We don’t have to go back."

  She looks at me, unsure.

  "He’s the one who should be nervous to see you. You’re…you’re one of the most selfless people I know," I whisper and she allows me to cup her cheek.

  She grabs my hand, steers me to a nearby tree and wraps her arms on my neck.

  I’m about to close the space between us and crush my body against hers, but I stop myself. What are we doing? She’s in a vulnerable state and here I am, about to kiss her. I’m supposed to be a good mate not…this. Whatever this is right now.

  "We should get back," I say and pull away.

  She clears her throat. "Good idea."

  We near The Seven Mermaids and I want to sigh a loud sigh of relief, but she grabs my hand. Is she using me right now, holding my hand, to get back at Toby? I can’t help but flash back to a time one of my exes did this to me.

  She scans the pub and grips my hand tighter. "He’s not here." She sighs.

  She doesn’t let go of my hand, so I do.

  I can’t look at her right now. She’s giving me mixed signals.

  "I’ll grab a pint," I tell her, gritting my teeth, as I stare at the wall ahead. "Want anything?"

  "No, thanks." She heads back to our table.

  When I reach the bar, the middle-aged man is gone.

  What in the queen’s name just happened? She might fancy me, but she still seems hung up on Toby. Then there’s her whole no-musicians rule, which she almost threw away just a few minutes ago. I can’t understand what she wants to do.

  After consuming another pint, I walk back outside and sit on the pavement.

  What a day.

  I stay seated on the pavement for a couple of minutes.

  "Sorry, Cameron." I don’t think I’m ready to face her yet, but she’s back.

  "That was out of line. I hope you don’t think I was trying to use you to get back at him."

  Tonight we almost crossed a messy and tricky line. Best to stay friends first, I decide.

  "Oh, I’m such a prick. A stupid, stuck prick."

  I hold my hand up at her and stop her from saying anything more.

  "We’ve all had flings sometime in our lives, haven’t we?" I begin. "You need to move on, girl." I do my best imitation of Amber.

  Cassie laughs.

  "It’s part of who you are. Don’t be ashamed of it."

  She’s got tears amid the laughter.

  "You’re always the one encouraging us to be a better version of ourselves. Time you do the same, yeah?" I say.

  She nods and rests her head on my shoulder. "You know, it’s because of Toby that I don’t date musicians…That I can’t."

  "I understand." I mean it. She needs to know she can trust someone like that again.

  Before anything else, we have to build up this young tree, and let the ship sail to the farthest corners of the globe.

  I know that we can’t be anything but mates for quite some time. And somehow I’ll have to find a way to be all right with that.

  This time, when I take her hand, it’s a gesture of comfort. "Our dirty little secret," I tease.

  Her figure shakes beside me.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Another day, another city. It’s the first time I’ve gone to Cardiff. In this city, we have no sponsor, i.e. the Cardiff city hub manager does not have enough space in his house to host us all. Bristol would have been easy—we’ve loads of contacts there—but since this is a place new to most of us, we go for the next best thing: Uni accommodations.

  Though we booked single rooms, this one is big enough to fit three. There’s a single bed, but the floor can fit another mattress. Eric claims the bed as soon as we enter the room. We are here two more nights to make the journey worthwhile and to rest up. Maybe busk around whilst Eric does his best to land us gigs last minute.

  The other night’s pub debacle is proof of how much we have to grow as a band. We need more time on stage, in front of people who may or may not like our music. Though this band started with me, it’s not just my music anymore. It’s ours. My mates deserve the credit for helping grow my songs into what they are.

  The Hush Society is great exposure in itself since a lot of people hear about it, but nothing beats the classic pub or open mic night performance to build our confidence as a band.

  We planned to record "Brick Walls" at Bristol’s Hush Society episode, but since that was cancelled, we adjust our schedule.

  It’s been a couple of days since I sent Dad the link to our first video, but still no word from him. Everyone else sent words of encouragement. I get that he doesn’t support this part of me, but would it hurt him to lessen his pride and reply to me? I’m already reaching out. Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have. But now, I realise it’s important to mend this strained relationship even if I am miles away. He is still my Dad. But he is stubborn and trying to prove his point.

  Benji, Eric, and I are about to slip out of our room to go to the garden lot below and work on our songs when Eric sees me scribbling out a mess of lyrics and notes into Benji’s notebook.

  "It’s about Cassie, innit?" Eric says, nonchalant. "I saw you two the other night. Why do the girls always get the songs? What about us guys? Do girls serenade us with songs of love, no way!"

  "That’s not true," Benji says and names out a few songs written by female singers. "Think Haley Williams, Alicia Keys, and even Katy Perry."

  "I was being dramatic," Eric groans. "Sheesh."

  "Drama queen," I tease.

  Eric narrows his eyes at me, but Benji gives us a look, so we drop it.

  "So, what is this song about?" Eric jumps on our inflatable mattress. Benji and I are propelled in the air for a couple of seconds and crash unto the bed.

  "Oi!" Benji shouts.

  "Anything interesting happen the other night?" Eric continues as he raises his eyebrows up and down multiple times.

  "None of your business." Cassie will probably figure it out as soon as she hears the lyrics.

  "It is our business; we’re your band mates." He’s smug now.

  "You cheeky little lad," I say. "Go figure."

  "I’ll ask Cassie then."

  "Go ahead," I dare.

  "Are we gonna work on this song or not?" Benji sighs.

  "Yes!" Eric and I shout in unison.

  Without any more interruptions, we head outside.

  #

  We spend the rest of the morning writing, revising, polishing our songs.

  "What do you lads say about doing something more with our music?" I ask after we finish practising "Electrified" and put down my guitar. "And not just writing songs like ‘Brick Walls,’ but something bigger than that."

  Eric does a drum roll on his Cajon.

  Benji looks intrigued. "How?"

  "The other night, after what happened at The Seven Mermaids, I began to doubt myself," I say. "Was absolutely gutted that the crowd hated us—hated me."

  "Cameron," Benji says with a tone that reminds me of what we’d talked about in Westwood—committing to believing in ourselves.

  "I know. I know," I answer him. "But it can’t be helped. It’s not like I can switch it off anytime I want to. They voiced out my fears. Hearing it aloud tore at me."

  Eric nods. "It’s not easy at all, mate."

  "And then I thought about how maybe, we can use experiences like those to help others," I continue.

  Eric scratches his head. "I don’t comprehend."

  "I snapped out of those cynical thoughts because Lily sent me a couple of enco
uraging words."

  "Oh la la!" Eric says with a naughty undertone.

  Benji waves him off. "So you were saying?"

  "What if we mentor musicians who are starting out? Sort of like a spin-off or a side-project of The Hush Society’s. I told Cassie about it and she loves the idea. I wanted to see if you lot are on board with it, too."

  "Of course," Benji says and smiles. "I’m in."

  "Me too," Eric beams.

  I grin. "We’ve a lot of planning to do, but there’s no need to rush it now. Let the idea marinate in your head…see if you come up with any ideas."

  "Good ‘cause I’ve got to roll," Eric says, getting out a cigarette stick and placing it on the corner of his mouth. "I’ve got a date."

  "With who?" I ask, incredulous.

  "Just a cute Irish lass from The Seven Mermaids the other night," Eric says. "Ta-ta! Can’t be late." He salutes us good-bye, gets his things, and dashes off.

  Benji shakes his head.

  "It’s like he chats up someone new in every city. How does he do that?"

  "It’s the Baker charm."

  "Ha."

  "I really like this idea of yours, Cameron," Benji says rubbing his tattoo-covered arms.

  "Thanks," I say and pick up my guitar, strumming a spontaneous melody.

  "It reminds me a lot about the youth rehabilitation centre I go to every week. Of course the music does its job and gives them an outlet to cope with their negative emotions, but it’s the encouragement that comes from one another and from their advisors that helps them with their insecurities and makes them believe they’re worth more than they think they are."

  At this, I stop strumming and set my guitar aside. "A few kind words do have such a massive impact."

  "Yes. They do." Benji nods. "Which makes me think about making your mentorship program bigger." His arms open up, to further drive his point. "What if you turned it into a non-profit with a full-fledged program that teaches these budding musicians how to deal with self-doubt, rejection, the ins and outs of touring, marketing…you get my drift."

  "Benji, that’s brilliant!" I shout and jump up. "Maybe even grant the best students a start-up fund or give back to a chosen charity organisation!" I scramble to find his black notebook to jot it all down.