Fifty-Two (Danny); Time Bomb.
The sound of my mailbox clanging shut is nothing unusual, but the sound of it clanging open again is something I haven't heard since the days of Boingo. Suppose I should actually go and get my mail. Sighing I drag myself outside to retrieve the piles of newpapers (which will be duely burned), the teetering mound of letters and the rather ominous-looking package. The papers are dumped on the floor of the front room, and I flop unelegantly onto my couch to look through the mail.
Bills. A few more bills. Few pieces of fanmail --how strange--, something that looks like it might be hatemail, more bills, advertising, flyers, a rather strange and kitch 'Wish U Were Here!' postcard from Heaher --that girl gets weirder the longer I know her!-- and the suspicious package. The dramatic part of me makes me pick it up and shake it, then listen to see if it ticks. I catch myself and laugh wryly; I doubt anyone would waste the postage money on sending me a mailbomb. A little impatiently I tug the padded envelope open. It's a video. My lips twitch into a smirk of slight confusion. The fuck is this?! A small scrap of paper flutters to the floor as I pull the video from it's case. I pick it up and instantly recognise Tim's sporadic spider-like scrawl.
Danny, Heather thought you might be interested in seeing how "Fevered Sleep" were doing, and she wanted to show you how they both sing and stuff, so Tim got me to film it, so enjoy!
The order to 'enjoy' the video seems somewhat ominous, and I roll my eyes; trust Tim. And what on Earth was he scribbling about? How both who sing? I guess the only way to answer those questions is to actually watch the damn thing. Better be in US format, or I'll be calling Tim to chew him out for being an imbecile. Either Tim, for that matter! I sigh and get up, shoving the cassette into the player, press play and flop back down on the couch. Should be amusing, if nothing else! The screen filld black, and a title appeares.
'Fevered Sleep - Torture Gardens.' It reads, emblazoned in overly-gothic font. Oh please! At least it looks like it's been properly edited. Well, the quality shouldn't be too bad anyway; Tim knows what he's doing when it comes to filming things - the man's a director for goodness sake! The title fades, and the black becomes a little grainy, and I can see a few pinpoints of light. There's also a lot of background noise. Here goes nothing.
The second the first note is played I know what song it is. Part of me really doesn't want to see this, but a part of me does, even if it's bad, which I'm afraid it's quite likely to be --come on, she's a girl! How's that work?!-- I shake my head and keep watching. The blaze of lights actually makes me blink for a second, before my brain reminds my eyes that the light isn't actually that bright. I blink again when the band comes onstage. What. The fuck are they not wearing?! I resist the urge to rub my eyes as a figure leaps on that I recognise, but should not be dressed like that... A small, blonde figure in what looks like leather and lace... Shit... Here's me thinking Heather was a little innocent thing!
And so I'm forced to be surprised at how good the band actually sounds... It's strange, because in a way I'm half expecting to hear my shitty voice blasting out those lyrics... But it's not, it's Heather... And she has a surprisingly decent voice... Hmm.
"We've got a special guest singer tonight." The onscreen Heather is sayin. I start concentrating again. Is it me, or is she looking more manic than usual...? I think it's just me. I hope it's just me! It's a freaky thought, her taking on my on-stage persona............... "The stunningly amazing Amy Hewitt will be singing a duet with me..." My brain shuts off.
Amy?! Fuck no! I reach out a hand to switch off the TV and video, but as Amy walks on I stop, my hand still stretched out. Sweet Jesus......... I gulp. And stare. Fucking hell... The brass section plays a series of notes that make me cackle out a violent, mirthless laugh without even meaning to. Oh no. Dear God no... My hand twitches once more towards the 'stop' button, but I don't quite manage to actually press it. I can't watch, but Amy's voice keeps playing... Going through my mind... Through my heart...
Fuck, I'm insane! I jerk my hand away from the video player as though it might bite me or something. Heather and Amy's voices mesh pretty well... Though I can pick Amy's out... And I'm not even trying to... Dammit... Oh fucking hell, this has got to stop! With a sharp movement I snap forward and slap the 'stop' button. The silence that follows is deafening.
Heavy.
I can't bear it. I have to go to the only place that isn't so thick with the memories of Amy, and the sound of her voice that's still playing in my ears. I get up -almost skirting around the TV- and scarper down to my studio. The only damn place I can get some peace!
Chapter 51 ; Contents ; Chapter 53
