It felt good to be home. It's been too long since home comforts and useless artefacts that I never intended on using had surrounded me, but still remained to please the spirit of my mother. 'Where do you want the stuff?' This time homecoming was a little different for me-I'd brought home a huge gift from my work away in LA, but this one I was intently happy with and most defiantly not keeping just to please my mothers spirit.
Hyde was my work partner for much of my work out in LA. We'd grown attached, finding solace in our little foibles of humour, our vulnerability and the sheer co-incidence we'd both had experiences previously that showed us we weren't the well adjusted people we thought we were-until some little jumped up Annie told us to our face,(or in motions we understood) we were sorely wrong about our inner selves. He was in fact the soul reason I stayed out there and found another job straight after the Matchbox 20 one, his energy and his should ability to calm was what attracted me too him in all his 6ft 2ins glory. In case your wondering, yes he is part of the new Alba regime, and much to my surprise life has been a technical breeze since the day I stopped contact with anything Hanson. The fact there was a huge stain on my CV that was thanks to them, would still remain(kudos is still pouring in and although I've grown up some, I still have an ego to nurse).
Rest assured that my little fracas with Taylor had been buried a hefty six feet under as soon as I pulled myself together and realized I was being nothing but childish in that "relationship" or whatever it is that us kids had. My 23rd birthday signified a huge upheaval in life, because not only was I swept of my feet by the tower of strength that is Hyde Dewitz, but it seemed I was in demand from about anyone, who's anyone in assistant engineering circles.
We'd taken the plunge and become a steady couple, making permanent indentations on each of our hearts that we wanted to see if we were each other's chosen ones'. I asked him to move back to Tulsa with me when our contracts ended, begging him that I wanted to get back to my roots, work for the sarcastical tyrant that is Stevie L and more importantly, start to settle down. The words that normally stuns a man to the core in fact were heartily welcomed by one, Hyde Dewitz, promptly causing him to pack up his old kit bag as we hopped on the first plane to sleepy suburban recording life.
'Uh, put it up in the bedroom, we'll sort it later,' I called after he struggled in with a few boxes and bags, an assortment of my trinkets from LA and his roots from home. There were times when Hyde reminded me of Taylor, a couple of our trivial arguments an ongoing reminder of the one that had triggered off a nightmare for both me and Taylor. Turning round in the kitchen I saw the table, still left as it was, nothing on it and 4 chairs still tucked in neatly as they were when I left. I smiled to myself at the rampant way we pulled each other onto it, attempting to break its four legs-but not quite succeeding. I walked over to the white board where he said his goodbye that morning, just as a breath caught in my throat. I felt Hyde's arms around my waist, his head resting over my shoulder, his floppy fringe tickling my neck as I stared at the message board. I could still see the faded scrawl of Taylor's words and only turning to meet Hyde's greeny-blue eyes made them vanish forever. 'We need groceries ,sweet' he whispered with a dinky smile, as I kissed his lips fleetingly and turned round in his embrace. Looking at his tall frame, nicely built and as clean cut as the boy next door, I smiled as I fanned my fingers through his golden brown hair, teasing out any imperfections in his floppy fringe. 'They can wait, I feel like a nap, you want to join me?' I'd learnt the art of getting my way with Hyde all too well as he mirrored my coy smile and grabbed my hand as I pulled him upstairs. 'What about the unpacking...and going to see Steve and...,' I cut him off with one swift kiss, pulling him into 'our' bedroom and kicking the door softly shut behind us. There'd be time for settling in later, right now there were a few exorcisms that needed to take place before i could stomp on the grave of Taylor.
'Beau we'll be home soon okay, then I'm all yours,' I rolled my eyes as my brother sniggered around me in the shared hotel room at the swanky, Miami Plaza. Putting my hand over the receiver i hissed for them to grow up, but after a few too many on the last night of our tour, we were all under the influence and anything to anybody of any age, was practically hilarious. 'Okay Taylor, well you just let me know the date and time and I'll drive up okay?' Her voice was like a breeze to me on a firey hot day, there was nothing like her arms around me, and nothing like her kiss before we fell asleep.
Beau Martin was a girl who had self-proclaimed baggage. It didn't, however, seem to impede my chances of having a serious relationship with her as although to this day i have no idea what the baggage is, she assures me I'm all she needs to forget it for good. She was a backing singer we'd found on our travels, thanks to a TV station who had misunderstood us when we said we needed a back up band and bassist. It seems in Arizona, backing bands come with compulsory backing singers and although they were surplus to our needs, Beau Martin was persistent and essential to mine. She was a year younger than me, turning 18 a week before my 19th and she had only just graduated from high school, and was now at present, looking for her break in the music industry. I'd taken her number out of kindness when she stayed to watch the airing of the live broadcast, even though she wasn't obliged too. I saw nothing much in her except a pretty face on that night, although now i feel somewhat sheepish for i know you can't judge a book by it's cover, if anything Alba taught me it was that.
It wasn't until one day, somewhere around Kentucky, that i had a whole day of feeling sorry for myself, feeling homesick and feeling low. When i thought of home, Alba came to mind and on the show, every song she'd recorded my vocals on, hurt like a knife in the chest. I'd not spoken to her since the night i walked home, hand shoved in my pocket and my heart full of regret for what I'd put myself through and her also. I got laid by some over excited teenybopper and i saw her face, i heard her at the point when it's most crucial and i started to doubt myself that maybe i should have told her i had feelings and maybe time apart would have healed the rift we created. But i doubt that would have helped our situation at all, it was too far-gone for any separation technique to help. So it was then i delved deep into the back of my wallet and pulled out the crumpled piece and dialled Beau's number-i needed to talk to someone new.
She managed to come to a concert in Seattle, (her father's air miles, finally coming in handy) and i took her for a meal in the hotel restaurant after the show and i found there was more too her than a pretty face and a great body. As she talked i realized that if I'd had just been like i was when i first bumped into Beau, honest and myself, maybe it would be Alba on the end of this phone right now wishing me a safe trip home. She was the same as Beau, a deeply guarded secret to her own self, but Alba never would be mine, and the chances of seeing her again, were as small as the world ending tomorrow. 'Night baby,' she cooed, one last time before i said my goodbyes and hung up the phone, falling back onto my bed with a puff of satisfied air, and the comfort that home was beckoning me home in less than 48 hours......