Unchained Melody (31 page)

‘I- I can’t-’ she spluttered, looking heavenwards, trying to get her tears back into her eyes like one of those little games where you had to roll the metal balls into the tiny pinholes. Her scalp was cold where Hunter’s hat had been. She could feel eyes on her, her sisters darting her looks at they tried to sparkle the crowd into buying their wares, without actually making eye-contact and killing a bunch of music careers by accident.

Imogen knelt before her. ‘So they weren’t happy about the shirts?’

Callie barked a humorless laughed. ‘Ryan didn’t want to talk about the shirts. He wanted to talk about ‘us’. So my pep-talk ended up being a three way break-up and fuck you very much.’

‘Oh shit,’ Imogen’s curly piggy tails seemed to deflate. ‘Damn, that’s one annoying cling-on you’ve gotten there Callie. I’ve never seen a Muse get so side-tracked before!’

‘It wasn’t on purpose!’ Calliope gave her sister a dirty look. ‘I was a human child embracing her first friends in a new town and not knowing that my grip would screw them both. When I’m past all this, remind me to smack you one for getting me into this mess, okay?’

Imogen’s glossy lips quirked. ‘I thought you were all about making it up to me.’

‘That was about three nightmare conversations and a hundred lies ago.’ She hugged herself, shaking her head, staring up at the stage when the lights flashed then dimmed.

‘Ladies and gentleman…’ the disembodied voice of one of the local radio D. J’s drawled into the microphone. ‘It’s time to get this night happening! Are we ready to rock?!’

‘Yeahhhhhhhh!’ Was the enthusiastic response.

‘Say WHAT?’

‘YEAHHH!’ The second response was twice as loud and Callie smiled, imagining Hunter probably flipping off the walls backstage. That was, if he was able to move yet. When she’d left them, they’d looked like statues. She chewed her lips and actually crossed her fingers. This had to be the exposure Hunter needed. This had to be the night. If it wasn’t, what was she going to do?

‘Come on Callie, get up. This is your moment.’ Imogen was wrenching her to her feet. ‘Besides, Raina wants you to meet someone.’

‘Gee tell her thanks but I’ve dated enough for a million lifetimes at this point…’ Callie’s eyes didn’t leave the stage as she saw Nick shuffle in at the back of the stage, taking his seat behind the drums as Clarice, the pianist from the performing arts school, moved in behind the keyboard. She wasn’t an official member of Lonesome October, only a ring-in for the event.

‘No it’s some computer hacker she’s been hanging off, you know, doing her thing…’

Callie glanced over at Raina, who had been over at the sound booth all night, talking to a middle-aged roly-poly guy in his thirties with glasses and a Che Guivera T-shirt. He was set up behind a bank of three laptops and a whole bunch of other things Calliope had never seen before, probably doing the sound or lighting. She was touched that Raina had managed to get one of her experts on the job, trying to make Hunter’s moment perfect.

‘I can’t meet him! What if I, you know…’

Imogen snorted. ‘For starters, I’m pretty sure he’s not one of her charges. And if you break the rules of Harmony to sleep with him you’ll probably want your memory surgically removed afterwards. He smells like keyboard cleaner and butter menthols.’

Callie bubbled her lips and just then, a deep grumble echoed from the massive portable speakers flanking the stage and Callie felt her breath catch as the tension in that solitary note hushed her thoughts. Huge screens had been unfurled on either side of each towering speaker, and Callie was delighted when Hunter charged out, grinning his head off. He didn’t wave to the crowd, but she could tell that he was having a hard time not hamming it up.

‘He gets cuter every time I see him,’ Imogen remarked.

‘Just a lot.’ Callie got to her feet, stepping closer, the chatter of the people buying shirts or trying to come onto her sexy sisters fading to white noise as a second chord was strummed.

Ryan walked out then, his fingers held over the chord, and he didn’t so much as glance up. His mouth was in a thin line, his eyebrows knitted in concentration, like he was almost despondent to what was happening around him. It was such a rock star face, and it made her heart flutter in appreciation. He struck a third chord then, and it was a hard note that suited the angry way he slashed at the strings; not because he was prepping to rock out, but because Ryan was pissed.

The crowd had been chattering away, the din they created almost overpowering the halting beginning of the song, but as Ryan struck three more chords in rapid succession and then let his fingers slips and slide down the neck of his guitar like he’d buttered it, hammering out the intricate intro solo with perfect precision and presence, the din lowered, and heads turned.

And then Rathe hit the bassline and the sounds blended, rose, filled Callie. Filled every reachable part of atmosphere.

‘Your opening act guys!’ The D. J announced excitedly. ‘Araulen Valley’s own Lonesome October!’

And then Hunter’s arm lifted as red spotlights burst down upon his golden hair and when he lowered it, they flashed magenta. He joined Ryan’s rhythm, chord for chord, note for note, and then Nick began to tap the rhythm.

‘One, two-’ Callie whispered.

And then the stadium was alive.

30.

The stage lights swept over the crowd and back to the stage and Callie felt that electricity shoot through her as the opening instrumental began. She remembered that once, there had been no lights. Her protege’s had played for the moon or the stars, her opera singers had almost blown out oil lamps with the power of their lungs and several theaters had burned down thanks to excited candle wavers. But even then, Callie had felt this feeling, this kaleidoscope of energy that reflected within an excited Muse’s eyes. The exquisite agony of music had been hers alone then, but since Raina had gotten involved, lights had begun to illustrate sound, to reproduce Calliope’s once secret thrill for everyone lucky enough to be close to it.

Ryan’s fingers stopped moving over the guitar as Hunter took the lead chords and Ryan stepped up to the microphone somewhat dazedly, as though only just noticing it was there. Then he glanced up at the crowd, his eyebrows lifting as though surprised that anyone had shown up for the first act, wetting then parting his lips as Callie’s heart took its cue from Nick and began to crash and pound against her ribcage in anticipation- praying that Ryan would choke, and that Hunter would take his place. Calliope the Muse, and Callie Clay had never hated themselves as abhorrently as they did in that moment.

‘If you don’t know it / it won’t know you / avert your eyes /and it won’t break through… if you ball up tight/ it wont see your face…’ Ryan’s voice was soft at first, but the microphone picked up the rich timbre of it perfectly. It was a dark song, and it made Ryan seem darker in comparison. Callie exhaled, her soul sinking, her heart soaring. Yes Ryan was upset, but he was a professional, and the show was going on with Hunter on the edges of the spotlight- not in it. It made her want to tear at her hair in frustration and then tear at Ryan’s, because he sounded incredible and she wanted to be under him again, kissing him, being cherished by him because Ryan Weaver was incredible and did not need her help to be that way. Callie remembered how often she’d taken his intensity as some sort of depression, but when she recalled his cheeky grin on the walking track to the gorge, she knew that Ryan wasn’t dark; he’d just been saving his light for her. And she’d tried to snuff it out. Her soul burned.

‘Oh mother may I?’ Imogen turned and fanned herself. ‘I knew he was quite the piece but, Mrrow!’ Imogen jostled her shoulders. ‘Okay Cal, I totally get it. I’d be trying to draw this job out too for a piece of that.’

‘Don’t you have work or something to do?’ Callie asked, annoyed.

‘My job is stop you from imploding.’

‘Try harder.’

‘Callie! There you are!’ There was no mistaking Marnie’s voice as she elbowed her way out of the crowd and began dragging Callie back by the sleeve. ‘What are you doing all the way back here?! The guys are going to be looking for you.’

‘I was just checking on the stall,’ she fibbed.

‘The stall’s fine Cal! Hunter and Ryan are the ones who need our attention. I know you’re afraid they’re not speaking to you but once they find out about the shirts, I know they’ll forgive and forget!’ Calliope almost snorted as Marnie ploughed into the crowd and dragged her after, knowing that Marnie would blow her lid when she found out that Callie had dropped in on the band for a pep talk and ended up breaking their spirits instead!

Or had she? Callie’s eyes did not budge from the stage as she was herded through the crowd. There were a lot of sweeping shots of Hunter on the screens, and though she appreciated Raina’s sound/video guy singling him out, she was surprised at how much fun Hunter seemed to be having- like he didn’t have a care in the world as he cranked his neck to the ostinato Ryan’s fingers were deftly plucking to the beat Nick was setting.

I broke his heart, didn’t I? She thought, eyeing his enlarged image on the screen above, oblivious to the elbows and knees Marnie was swinging her into on the way to the front. He said I did! But where’s the pay-off? Realistically she knew that his triumph could be the internal variety. The song playing (that she was already besotted with) had certainly been penned by Hunter. In fact, he’d been furiously composing since the night they’d first hooked up. But it left Callie wanting. Hunter sparkled on stage- he needed to be fronting a band, that voice needed to be on radio stations across the world. But if she hadn’t broken his heart, he wouldn’t be recognised as the virtuoso he was. And if dumping him then telling him that she was going to die and then sleeping with his best friend before dissing them both hadn’t done it, then what would?

‘If you’re going up front, I’m coming with.’ Imogen’s hand caught Callie’s and squeezed it tightly.

Callie glanced at Marnie ahead of her, and then back to Imogen. ‘Won’t she recognize you?’ She asked, trying to ignore the way Ryan’s raising voice was making her tingle all over.

But Imogen winked. ‘I don’t look like the girl she met who attacked you at the disco all those years ago. I’ve been throwing a glamor since I got here yesterday. You’re seeing my true face, but she sees a redhead with grey eyes.’

‘Ah.’ Calliope was familiar with the trick, for she’d done it a thousand times herself. But it had been so long that it had slipped from her memories, which was happening a lot. She knew that her face was her face or at least, a version of it. A kind of crappy one compared to her hazy memories of her true glory, which she wouldn’t get even close to until her powers had been restored and her human body shed like snakeskin and then after she’d worked her ass off to restore herself to Callie of 1979 who’d been riding so high on The Beatles, the Peace movement, Punk and the introduction of Heavy Metal that she’d felt omnipotent.

But Imogen had stripped her of that so when she returned to her true form, she would only be as strong as the music and after twenty-four years of barely existing, the music of 2004 was nothing compared to 1979, or even the nineties when she’d first discovered it as a human and had unwittingly sent her energy out into the universe by constantly singing, dancing and playing. The 80’s had had their own charm, but that was when Raina had first really stepped up and the focus of the world had been scattered between poppy music, technology that was laughable now, and Thespia’s assault on the world in the form of television and blockbuster movies.

Now Callie had to get music back to meaning something again. The world had rolled on as it did, living off its own collective energy, but the true artists had lost their way and now people seemed incapable of liking more than one style, which was ridiculous. Nick teased her for bouncing around the room to The Beautiful People and then getting all high off Mmm Bop but she worried about people who couldn’t appreciate both for the different chords they could strike in the soul. More Metallica should have been on the mainstream radio stations, and more alternative should have flooded the charts. People shouldn’t have to be afraid to admit to liking a song because that song did not match the clothes they liked to wear. It was just one of the many issues Calliope was going to have to throw herself into when she was back to form again- if she ever got there.

‘Can’t hide your head or turn your faces, cos monsters lurk in darkened spaces…!’ Hunter and Ryan’s voices rose to a crescendo together just as Callie, Imogen and Marnie arrived at the edge of the mosh pit. To Callie’s absolute delight, the corralled bodies in front of her immediately began to bounce on their feet in time to the beat Nick was setting the pace for.

‘Oh wow!’ Marnie squeezed Callie’s hand and grinned at her. ‘First song and they’re already got the crowd into it! That’s awesome isn’t it?’

‘For an original? Hell yes!’ Callie couldn’t help but grin as she peeked up at the stage and saw Ryan and Hunter come into their own; together. Back to back, chord for chord, note for note they hit their mark and Hunter’s grin of triumph was infectious. Well for Callie anyway- Ryan still looked like he could go a fruit bat.

‘God,’ she whispered, mostly to herself. She wanted to bounce, to be supportive, but she was only just barely holding it together. ‘I’m really going to miss them.’

‘What?!’ Marnie asked as she pumped her fist in the air.

But Callie just sighed. ‘Never mind. Just… lamenting my fate.’

‘Your fate?’ Imogen repeated, spinning Callie to look up at her. ‘That’s what you’re so overcome with right now? Your sadness? Your longing?’

Callie blinked, surprised at Imogen’s shift in character again. ‘Of course!’ She threw up her hands. ‘Isn’t this what this is all about Imogen? You making me feel your pain? Well, mission accomplished! What more do you want from me?’

‘I want you to see this isn’t about you!’ Imogen’s voice dropped to a whisper as the song faded out, and then rose again when the next began to play. It was ‘Truth Or Dare’ the song Hunter had confessed to penning a year or so after she’d left, in memory of the pool party when he’d almost kissed her.

Not about me? Callie thought, dazed. It’s all about me- and it sucks!

She and Imogen were the only two people in that part of the crowd talking, the only two facing one another and not the stage. ‘This is about The Harmony. Look at them Callie! Do you know what I would give to have just one of my writer’s bask in the triumph of their success? Authors don’t get stadiums, Calliope, and they don’t get lights! They don’t have band members pulling them through the darkest hours, and they sure as hell don’t get film clips and flashy award ceremonies where every single sort of writer is eligible for something, even if it’s best new artist, or best alien-invasion!’ She looked heavenward. ‘The best they can hope for, it to be renowned and they can’t just write the paragraphs they like the most and then bow out of the part that’s too difficult, like Ryan there totally chilling while Hunter carries the load for a minute. Writer’s are always alone! Every word, every full stop, every paragraph has to be perfect! Hunter can scribble Oh baby baby twenty four times into a song but a writer says it more than twice and look out!’ She tugged on her ponytails in frustration. ‘A writer can’t pull up a stand at a shopping center and start reading aloud from another writer’s book and expect a round of applause and a cash contribution! And as their Muse, I can’t walk down the street with a boom box blasting their words until they get stuck in someone’s head!’ She clasped Callie’s face in her hands, tears streaking from her pristine blue eyes. ‘A writer can be perfect Callie, but what’s a book if it isn’t opened? Nothing, that’s what! Except to the author, who might have invested their soul into it! Any performer, any singer or dancer can find a way to earn some of that spotlight or just a smile of appreciation! There’s always going to be an open mic or an audition or something and that’s where your job gets easy, Callie and where mine sucks, okay? It can suck! You’re feeling emotionally connected to your guy? Well guess what? If I don’t make that connection every time, the writer is pretty much on their own!’ She closed her eyes. ‘But Harley would have known glory, Callie. He would have been one of the ones whose name lasted on lips forever. But because of you, he died thinking he was worthless.’ Her eyes opened. ‘Not only to his art, but to the woman he thought he’d fallen in love with. His name would have been on everyone’s lips for decades if not longer but because of you- I am the only one who remembers him.’ She frowned. ‘The best books can go ignored but the worst singers are praised higher than our gods! And so music has an ego now- your ego! It doesn’t think it needs love; it can survive on anger, sex, passion, intensity and melancholy because its Muse is too selfish to offer more because she doesn’t need to anymore!’

Callie tore her eyes away from her sister and back up to the stage where Hunter had faded back into the background and Ryan was front and center once more. The last song had been rock but this was more of an energetic ballad, the kind of song people would shout along to, sway too, fall in love to. She looked at Ryan and realized that his face had kept her more anchored to the world than any song ever had- not his talent. She could have broken Hunter’s heart without involving Ryan because he was the dream she was never going to have and she hadn’t wanted to leave this life without feeling truly alive first- and that was how she had felt in Ryan’s arms the other night- alive. In silence.

If Imogen had felt that for Harley and was still hurting twenty-five years later because she’d never gotten to give her heart to the only man she’d ever loved, how on earth could Callie think that returning to her powerful natural state or failing that, Ardos’s convenient arms, was going to make anything better again when she’d fallen as a human but was destined to live, and grieve forever? And what would happen to Ryan, the one musician in the world who wanted love more than fame?

Callie turned back to Hunter and stared at him, looking around again to see the way people were reacting to the band. Hunter was an incredible person, but that shiny new soul of his was always going to get him into trouble as much as it charmed the heck out of anyone he ever met. He was going to lose a bunch of money gambling, have three wives, six kids, ten albums and three reunion tours before he exhausted himself. He was going to get Chlamydia, blow off a concert because there wasn’t a diner nearby, make a scene at an awards ceremony because he was too drunk and become absolutely legendary. He was going to fight with whatever band he ended up fronting, then go it alone and probably die alone with a smile on his face and a supermodel in his arms.

And he was going to do all of that. She could see it then and there in his gait, that he’d taken hold of just his sliver of spotlight and he was never going to release it. In another life, like Ardos, Hunter might have been perfect for her. His lightness would have taken the weight out of her intensity, just as his speedy fingers whipped frenetic energy over Ryan’s harder, deeper chords. His grin would have eased her tears, her strength would have helped him avoid the pitfalls his weaknesses were going to drag him towards, and maybe after all was said and done, he’d emerge stronger than any of them; an old soul at last and perfect for her.