Falling Sky (4 page)

Move on? The gnawing pain creeps into my chest again.

Okay.

“Do you think I did what Lily says?” I ask.

“Did you?” she shoots back.

Four months. Four months for us to have a frank conversation about something, I couldn’t explain because the truth seemed worse.

Sky’s eyes remain fixed on the threadbare brown carpet; the sound of a car passes outside. The words. They have to come; I have to vocalise this and get this shit out of my head.

“I had sex with Lily, yes. But it wasn’t rape. What sort of man do you think I am? I’m not sure how you could think that of me?”

Sky’s head snaps back and teary eyes meet mine. “I knew you three weeks, Dylan. So, I hardly knew you. I imagine date rape is a risk in your… industry.”

I rest my elbows on my knees and rub my hands through my hair, through curls that weren’t there last time I saw Sky.

Telling Sky the story doesn’t matter, whatever she thinks will make no difference; I lost her months ago.

****

Sky

Dylan’s appearance shatters one layer of defences. His pale face accentuates the dark circles beneath his ocean blue eyes. There’s no Dylan spark or colour around him; even his tattoos are hidden beneath his leather jacket and shirt. In the summer, I wanted to help him. Now I fight the desire to wrap my arms around his tall figure and to be held against the lines of the muscles still apparent under his clothes. I can clearly see why Myf worries about him.

A muscle twitches in his gaunter cheek as I say the word rape, and I’m annoyed with Dylan’s vulnerability drawing me to him.

“What happened wasn’t date rape,” he says holding my gaze.

Dylan looks to my hands and when I
realise they’re trembling I sit on them. “What was it then?”

He deflects the question in his Dylan way. “One of the reasons I didn’t try to explain in July is because I feel as if I am responsible, and deserve the blame. I couldn’t have you look at me with the same disgust I have for myself, I wanted to keep the memory of the Sky who looked at me as if I meant something.”

“Why tell me now?”

“Because I thought walking away would make things easier. But for the first time in my life, leaving didn’t help. Walking away from you isn’t an option, Sky. Instead of hiding, I need to tell you the truth. If there’s the smallest chance you’ll listen and forgive me, then the risk is worth trying.”

With each word, the anxiety over what he’s about to tell me increases. I’ve been through a million scenarios in my head the last few months, and the one I settled on was Dylan not accepting ‘no’ from a groupie.

“Tell me the story, Dylan.”

Dylan flicks his fingers against his teeth and inhales, closing his eyes. “I’ll tell you. Believe what you want, but this is the truth. And I don’t think I’ll come out of the story a much better person than if I’d done what you think.”

“I doubt that,” I say coldly.

Dylan gulps half of his wine and sets the glass carefully on the table. “Three years ago Blue Phoenix made it big and we thought we were fucking gods. We came back from Europe after we’d toured the world non-stop for a year and lived the rock lifestyle to its fullest. Still high on life, alcohol, and drugs, we retreated to my place in Berkshire.

“For a few days, a stream of girls came in and out of the house and the craziness continued. Eventually, Bryn and Liam left.
I wanted to chill out, Jem wanted to keep going. When I wouldn’t play, Jem looked for other opportunities. The village near the house is pretty quiet; most people ignore us or put up with us, and we’d occasionally go into the village. When I backed off drinking for a couple of days, Jem started going to the local pub.” Dylan laughs. “The villagers hated the scrutiny our living nearby brought to their village, and they had no time for the media either. So, only the people who frequented the pub knew about their famous customers, no one was tipped off.

“
Jem befriended a group of girls or rather they came across him and fell for his star status which of course he lapped up. For a few nights, he’d go to the pub and talk to them. I didn’t understand why he was risking publicity. Jem was bored of groupies, said everything was too easy with them and had a bright idea about inviting some local girls over. One night, he returned home high and told me he was throwing a party.

“About half a dozen of them showed up early evening. A couple of them heavily made up in revealing clothes, hoping to catch themselves a rock star. They knew our reputation and I doubt any of their parents knew they were there. One girl stood out, partly because she looked uncomfortable and as though she didn’t want to be there, and because she was dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt. The fact the t-shirt had a different band name on it amused me, as if she was telling us to back off. This was Lily.

“Jem wanted Lily; I discovered later that she was the reason for the party. Lily also attracted me because she was the opposite of any girl I’d met recently.

He eyes me warily. “
Jem and I had this thing where whoever saw the groupie first at a party got her. I argued I’d seen her first when she arrived; he argued he’d spoken to her first in the village. In the end, we agreed to play our game and see who she went for.”

As Dylan’s story unfolds, unease morphs into a heavy sickness in my stomach. “Go on…”

“We did this a lot with girls, to see which one of us they’d choose. Sometimes we’d…” He catches the look of disgust on my face. “Yeah, well. I watched as Jem turned on every seductive trick in his book to get her interested in him. I took a different approach, misunderstood rock star looking for love.”

I inhale sharply and he meets my eyes, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. She’s me. He’s described how he was in Broadbeach. An extra barrier against Dylan goes up.

Dylan stands and walks toward the front door, then turns toward me. “Everything that happened was my fault,” he whispers.

“How?”

“I could’ve stopped the game; I didn’t realise how far he would go.”

“Who?
Jem? I thought she accused you?”

Dylan’s eyes are vacant, lost in the memory and I’m not sure he hears me. “I saw how uncomfortable she was becoming around
Jem’s behaviour; you’ve met him when he’s high and that night he was intense. Jem told me he wanted her, needed to get to know her, how she was different. I saw what he meant because Lily was one of those people who inadvertently attracted people. She was natural.”

He rubs a palm across his face. “After a few hours, Lily looked to me more and more, trying to keep away from
Jem. Jem went mental at me; he was weird. I’d never seen him like this over a girl so I backed off, couldn’t be bothered fighting. I noticed her trying to leave and stopped her. She trusted me because I’d been nicer to her and pulled Jem into line a few times when he got too intense. I guess I was being the considerate Mr Nice Guy as my strategy, so when I took her back to the party she was okay. Then I left her with Jem, half-hoping she’d tell him to piss off and come back to me.”

“You handed a girl back to your high friend like she was some kind of plaything?” My voice is barely audible. “What happened?”

Dylan crashes his head backward against the wall and stares at the dirty lampshade above. Is this as much of the story as I’m getting?

“They disappeared and I had a bad feeling about what he would do.”

The room contracts as I remember the creepy Jem, who approached me. “Was it him? Did he…?”

“I found him with her.” He heaves in a breath. “He wasn’t listening and she was telling him no. I don’t know if he would’ve, but I walked in and hauled his ass out of the room. The thing is, it’s because of me she was in the position.
Jem would never have thought she’d just changed her mind at the last minute.”

For the first time in his explanation, he looks directly at me, waiting for my reaction. I’m numb, his words washing over me as if I’m listening to a court case. “I don’t understand. Why did she say you were the one who raped her?”

“It wasn’t that night she accused me of raping her, but a couple of weeks later. To cut a long story short, because I felt guilty, I visited her a couple of times to make sure she was okay. Huge fucking mistake. Lily saw me as her knight in shining armour and wanted me. Even bigger fucking mistake? Having sex with her. Jem found out and went ballistic, accused me of planning this all along, and told her my part in the whole episode. She hated me more than Jem. She blamed me for handing her over to him and keeping her there. She accused us both of rape, and lost her shit threatening to go to the papers and police.”

The lack of information about this on the
internet tells me something. “Let me guess, Steve got involved and made everything go away?”

“Pretty much.”

The faraway look Dylan held when he arrived has intensified, and he stares at his boots. I walk to the window and look out. People pass by with bags of Christmas shopping, excited kids skipping along and gathering the tiny layer of snow from the wall to make snowballs. Ordinary.

If Dylan wanted to lie to me, he’d pick a story with him in a more
favourable light and not one where he was involved in the abuse of a young girl.

I turn back to Dylan. “Why did you do all those things? How can you treat someone like that? Like they’re just your
plaything?”

He looks me straight in the eyes. “Because I was high, thought I was entitled to anything, and didn’t give a shit about other people. And other stuff, complicated things between
Jem and me.”

The stories about Blue Phoenix I came across from those years reinforce the extremity of his lifestyle, but this? He could have his pick of any girl, and he did this? “That doesn’t excuse what happened.”

“If it means anything, the incident opened my eyes to how fucked up I was. I went into rehab and didn’t touch a girl for months afterward.”

“Why? Scared you’d have to pay her off again?” I can’t help the edge to my voice. “I guess that’s how you fixed your little problem? Money?”

He shakes his head. “We didn’t. Well, not exactly. I paid for her Art course she’d applied for, got the department to give her their annual scholarship and gave them a generous donation. I never got the chance to make amends with her. One night, plus my set of choices afterward, screwed up everything. Between Jem and me and now between you and me.”

He leans against the wall, hands buried in his jacket pockets, back to staring at his boots.

Yes, if I want to let his past end any chance we had and if I believe that Dylan hasn’t changed, that he deserves to be punished for his mistakes forever.

“Dylan, look at me.” He turns his tired eyes to mine. “Lily. The sex was a hundred percent consensual? There was no coercion at all?”

“She didn’t say ‘no’. I asked her more than once if she was okay with what we were doing. There was no doubt, Sky.”

I study his expression, willing him not to look away because if he does, I won’t believe his words. Dylan’s face holds a distant truth.

He didn’t do this. He didn’t rape her.

“Why did you have sex with her and make things worse? You’d done enough harm.”

“I don’t know,” he says and returns his gaze to the floor. “I wish I hadn’t. First, I put her in the position that almost got her assaulted, and then, I did something that left her feeling violated.”

Wrapping my arms around my chest, I fight to absorb the facts. Is
Myf right? Was this all revenge by Lily? I can’t blame her; Dylan used her, but this is extreme.

“Dylan, I don’t understand why you walked away and let me think you raped someone. You should’ve told me and given me the chance to make up my own mind.”

Dylan pushes a hand into his curls and holds his hair tight for a moment. “I’m a fucking coward, Sky. That’s why.”

“You had no idea how I’d react! What you’ve told me makes me feel sick, but can’t you see the difference between what you were accused of and this?”

“Kind of.”

Something’s missing. Either that or Dylan has an impossible time forgiving himself for the past.

“How did Lily know where I was?”

“
Jem. He’s a whole other story and I don’t want to talk about him.” His voice hardens. “He destroyed this.”

The sound of car
tyres sloshing through the streets fills the following expanse of silence between us. My head spins as I try to take in the fucked up lifestyle Dylan lived. The Jem he describes looking for something real from an ordinary girl could easily be the Dylan I met in the summer. My head hurts in confusion. Who is the real Dylan Morgan out of all the ones I’ve seen?

“I get from your silence and body language this hasn’t changed anything?”

“This is a lot to think about, Dylan.” Something is missing, confusing gaps around events and decisions made. I don’t believe I have the full story.

“Yeah, I bet. The mistakes I make in my life are bigger than other people’s because I have bigger opportunities to fuck things up but this doesn’t mean I regret them any less.”

For a moment, I think he’s going to reach out to me and my betraying body wants to hold this sad man. He’s suffering for past wrongs he’s allowing to shape his life. I remember his words from Broadbeach, how he can’t breathe and things are killing him. Dragged back into his past, and stuck in the world he wants to escape, has killed more of the man he was by the sea.