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| Since Sarah, something had happened | |
| By AlisonKim | ||||||||||||||||
| 30 July 2008 | ||||||||||||||||
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Hedy came to me one day, kicking and screaming in my mind. I knew I had to get her into a story. I couldn’t figure what was with Mark. All he had ever wanted, the one thing that meant everything to him was music. He might have been gorgeous and famous and on the tv and there may have been plenty of groupies. What he wanted, what made his life was playing his guitar. And being in the band - being with his best mates and playing great songs. So I couldn’t figure out why he’d chosen Sarah. She only wanted him because of who he was. But then she was a shallow bitch anyway. And, no, I’m not saying that because Mark and I had a thing once. I cared about him, like I cared about my brother Danny and my oldest friend Harry.I just knew that there was something wrong. Mark loved playing; he played like there was nothing better in the world. But since Sarah, something had happened. He hadn’t smiled all day - not for the screams, for the crying girls at the front, the roses thrown at his feet. Mark had just stared ahead of him. Blank. Playing his guitar like he was on automatic pilot. And her. Sarah. She was all but dribbling over him. If she’d been any closer to him on the sofa she’d have been in his lap. Whispering in his ear, touching him, smiling, looking like a complete smug bitch. Well, she was shagging a rock star, I guess she thought she had a damn good reason to look smug. The dressing room stank of sweat, beer and sick. Someone had definitely thrown up somewhere. I wouldn’t want to be the cleaner who found it. Harry, still clinging to his drumsticks, was flat out on the floor behind the sofa. I knew he was down there because every so often you could see his arms, and drumsticks, thrashing around. He’d been pissed before he’d even gotten on the stage. True to form for Harry. Danny had gone. His discarded bass was still by the side of the stage. I knew he was worried about Mark too. What was happening with him? What was Sarah doing to him? “Hedy... Hedy!” It was the whine in his voice that grated. It wasn’t the fact that he was an arrogant arsehole, Niall always had been. First his GCSE’s, then A-Levels - like anyone gave a shit that he had all As. Or that Daddy bought him a car, sent him on flash, expensive holidays every year. He was an arsehole, with or without the brains and money. No, it was the whine, like a little kid who hadn’t got his own way. “What?” I didn’t move my boots from the console. Niall sucked in his breath, squeezed it through his teeth, and back out his nose. “Hedy. Your boots. This isn’t our equipment, it’s,,” “Yeah, sure, no problem.” Still kept my feet firmly on the console. It was quite comfy. Niall looked at them a little longer, as though he could magic them off and onto the floor. Then he gave up. “Where are they?” he said, changing the subject. It was three hours into our recording session. We booked the studio for the whole day, the intention being we’d finish off the next EP. I’d arrived about two hours ago. I only lived 20 minutes away. Then again so did Mark, Harry and Danny and they were still absent. There was a thought – why was I still there after two hours? “I don’t know.” Niall snorted, swinging an empty chair around hard. “Pissed up a tree no doubt.” “Hey,” I said, letting my boots drop to the floor, straightening up, “that was just Harry and you know it.” “So? They all do it, just to wind me up.” Bastard. “Don’t flatter yourself, Niall.” Mark didn’t drink. He hadn’t touched any for months. Danny? Know him and love him as I did, I didn’t honestly know whether he was drinking or not lately. “Where are they?” Niall looked at his watch. “This is costing us 200 quid an hour.” Excuse me? Since when did he care about how much anything cost? Didn’t we just sell 200,000 copies of our last single? But then Niall did have a point. Where were they? I leapt out of the chair, letting it clatter back against the console. “Where are you off to?” he demanded, “Hedy!” I don’t know why I had an uncomfortable feeling, like something straining inside my head. But I had a sudden urge to go and find them. Something made me feel like I had to. I’d always wanted to do this, to be in a band. Me and Danny had stood in the front of the hall mirror when we were kids, me miming, him playing air guitar on his tennis racquet. Mum would look at us and get that worried look on her face. Dad’d just smile and ruffle our hair. “They’ll never be rock stars,” He’d reassure her, “Hedy’s tone deaf and Danny’s too short.” 10 years makes a hell of a difference to your voice and your height. Mark had lived next door. One day he climbed the fence and fell into our flower bed. The three of us become instant best friends. He’d always been short too. It runs in his family. Harry had lived across the road. He was my first kiss. August Bank Holiday, when I was 9; I went straight up him and just planted one right on him. Mind you, he’s always fancied himself with the girls. We all went through secondary school together, in the same year, with Niall. Sounds a bit claustrophobic? Probably. But we were good, as a band and as friends. We gigged all over the place, had A&R guys fighting over us. Seriously. One ended up with a black eye. It’d looked like one hell of a fight from the stage. We were signed up for a 6 EP deal. 6? That’s my lucky number. The NME loved our last single. It got rave reviews all over the radio. Went into the charts at Number 5, and kept on selling. I think it was at Number 2 last time I looked. And last night’s gig was packed. Everything was bloody fantastic. So what was happening to us? Under Mark’s converted flat lived this doddery old couple. Well, in their 50s probably but they acted old. Their curtains twitched as I threw stones up against his front window. I’d given up ringing the bell. Then the old lady pulled the net curtain right back. She obviously didn’t appreciate my language. “Mark!” I threw another stone. Actually that was probably the reason the lady was looking pissed off - they were her pebbles from the front garden. “Mark, you arsehole! You in there?!” Mark never minded my language. Throwing one last stone, I strained to see something, anything through his window. Where the hell was he? He wouldn’t be at Harry’s, whose idea of cleanliness and tidiness was not quite up to the same rather particular standard as Mark’s. I’m not sure he could even find Danny’s flat. Then again, neither could I, no matter how many clear directions he gave us. At Sarah’s? No.He may have been sleeping with her, but he knew what he was doing. Shit it. The sound of agitated voices tumbled down the stairs as I pushed the studio doors open. Harry and Niall. No surprises there then. They seriously did not like each other. Harry had no tolerance for arseholes. Niall was only our manager because he was bloody good. And he knew it. “Oh, fuck off man.” Harry was sober. “Look, we had arranged this ages ago. You know that. You’re just arsing around.” I slipped in unnoticed and stood in a dark corner. It was just Niall and Harry. No Mark and no Danny. I didn’t like that. “Piss off Niall.” “Harry we have to get this done. Today. The tour starts...” “Will you shut up!” Harry grabbed Niall’s shirt, pulling him towards him. “You know, you are such a complete arsehole.” Niall pushed Harry away. “So you keep telling me.” “Then take the hint man. Give it...” Harry pulled up. He was looking at me, watching them. “Hey,” I said, coolly. “Hey Hedy.” He wasn’t sure what to do. Obviously didn’t realise he had me as an audience. “How long you been there?” “Not long.” I pushed myself off the wall and walked over to them. “You seen Mark?” Harry took a couple of steps towards me, then stopped. Love him dearly as I did, he never quite knew how to take me since I’d given him a knee in the groin for putting his hand down my shirt. “No. Not since last night. Have you not seen him?” Shit. Where was he? That feeling wasn’t going away.Pulling my phone from my jacket pocket, I speed dialled Danny’s number. It rang at the other end. “Danny?” I jumped in before my brother could say anything. “Where’s Mark?” “Hedy?..” He sounded like I'd just woken him up. “Have you seen him?” “Are you in the studio?” “Have you seen him?” I couldn’t keep the rising panic out of my voice. “Yeah, last night. After the gig. I went to his place. Didn’t stay long..” Danny didn’t sound happy. “It was not good. I think I interrupted him and Sarah fighting.” Shit. “He’s not there now. I’ve just been round to his and got no answer. Danny...?” Silence on the other end. He was thinking. “I don’t like this, Hedy. Meet me at Sarah’s.” “No bloody way! He wouldn’t stay there. He’s...” “Can you think of anywhere else?” No I couldn’t. And I felt like throwing up. “Go away Hedy!” I threw myself against her front door. Bitch, as she was, Sarah was probably the only person who’d know. The door gave way, crashing open. Sarah startled, backing away quickly, as I stood on the doorstep. “Where is he?!” She looked at me. Of course she hated me, I could see it in her eyes. “Fuck off,” Sarah threw at me. Reaching for her, I shoved the door aside, grabbing her arm and slamming her against the wall. Her eyes nearly popped out of her face. “Look, you spiteful, conniving little cow, what happened yesterday?” “Hedy.” Danny out his hand on my shoulder, but didn’t pull me off her. I've never been a violent person. But with Sarah I was tempted. “Let go!” It didn’t come out as hard as she obviously hoped it would. “Where’s Mark?” “I don’t know.” Didn’t believe her for a second. She had to know. “Come on Sarah,” I pushed her harder against the wall, “you know where he is.” “I don’t know! He went out this morning, didn’t say where.” He was staying with her? “Hedy.” Danny pulled me off her. Sarah clutched herself and hurridly backed off. I felt like screaming, crying. “Why would he stay here with you?” I demanded of her, “he’s not stupid.” I’d obviously insulted her. Sarah reached out to slap me but I moved too quickly. Danny put a protective arm in front of me; for whose protection I wasn’t sure. “You’ve no idea have you, Hedy?!” she shouted at me, “you can’t see what’s under your stupid nose, can you? You’re so obsessed with you and the band, you can’t see it.” What was she going on about? Everything that was happening with Mark was because of her; was the cause. “You bitch,” I spat the words at her as Danny took my arm forcefully. Pulling away from my brother, I made for her. Diving into her kitchen, Sarah slammed the door shut. Banging hard, I tried to force it open. “Hedy!” Danny grabbed my arm again but I struck out at him. “Can’t you see what she’s done?” I shouted at him. Danny looked at me like I had two heads. I wanted him to understand. Desperate to make him understand what I felt. “She’s doing this to him. The bitch is getting to him. She wants him away from us.” I kicked the door again, so hard that I left a boot print. “Come on Sarah! You are, aren’t you?! You’re getting to him. You’re making him like this.” “Fuck off, Hedy,” came her voice. “Yeah!?” This time I kicked hard enough. The door flew open, banging against the wall. Sarah screamed, backing towards the opposite wall. “Hedy!!” Danny had his arms around me. I couldn’t move. I pulled against him. Sarah looked terrified. Good. I wanted to hit her, hit her hard, make her leave Mark alone. “Let me go Danny!” I tried to jerk my arms free but my brother was too strong. “No fear,” he said. Seeing that I couldn’t get near her, Sarah moved a few steps back towards me. Looking me straight in the eye. I wasn’t going to look away. “Hedy.” Her voice was suddenly softer. Sad. “Can’t you see what’s happening to Mark?” “I can see what you’re doing to him!” Sarah shook her head. She was crying. Danny noticed it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She had that effect on all guys! “I’m trying to help him,” Sarah said, turning away. Picking up a box from the bench, she held it in my face. “This… this is his medication. He’s depressed, Hedy. He’s suicidal. He tried to kill himself…” No…no…not Mark. I know Mark. I know him better than she does. He wouldn’t.. “..no, you didn’t know did you. You were so wrapped up in your record deal, in getting on the tv, on being famous, you couldn’t even see it. Couldn’t see he was going to pieces, that he hated it.“ No… no. She was so wrong. Mark wanted all of that. He wanted the band, the music, he wanted us. I still struggled in Danny’s arms, but he wouldn’t let go. He was shaking. I could feel my brother shaking. Looking at his face, I saw that he was crying. “Danny?..” Oh god. It started in my chest. Spreading out down my arms, my legs, until every part of me ached.Oh god. No. No, not Mark. Not my Mark. “Danny.” I wrapped my arms around him. He held onto me tightly. Neither of us knew what else to do. The guy we’d know since we were little, the guy we played wild west games with, Who’d taken me to my first gig and got me addicted to the whole experience of music. Who’d waited until I was ready to sleep with him. I hadn’t seen it. Too warped by jealously and too obsessed by the band to notice. Mark needed us. We’d ignored him. Oh god. What had I done?
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