Nemesis: Soulmates Never Die - 6. Chapter Six: You Don't Care About Us

CHAPTER SIX

You Don't Care About Us

‘That’s not the way I taught you to do that, Nick,’ said Owen, shaking his head. ‘Again.’

Nick glared at his guitar teacher. ‘What for?’ he asked. ‘It sounds the same.’

‘But you’re holding your fingers all wrong,’ said Owen exasperatedly. ‘The way you’re doing it requires a lot more energy than the way I’ve told you to do it, and it’s sloppy technique.’

‘This way is much easier for me,’ Nick argued. ‘I mean, have you seen my hands? I have tiny, girly hands! My fingers can’t reach that far.’ He held up his left hand and wriggled his fingers in demonstration. ‘See? Besides, I’m left handed.’

‘Then why aren’t you playing left handed guitar?’

‘Because there weren’t any in my school.’

Owen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Well, if you want to be able to do this kind of quick melody without getting your fingers tangled—’

‘But I don’t!’ Nick interrupted. ‘Who cares if I do it like this,’ he played it the way he liked, ‘or like this?’ He played it the way his teacher had told him, stumbling a couple of times. ‘This isn’t even the kind of music I want to play. I don’t want to be Yngwie Malmsteen, I want to be Brian Molko! That shit isn’t really music, anyway, it’s just . . . masturbation.’

A long silence followed, in which Owen stared at him with an unreadable expression on his face, and Nick thought for a moment that he might have gone too far. Owen was a brilliant guitarist, he knew that. He had done session work for some of the truly great. But Nick couldn’t help but think that Owen, already in his fifties, was a bit out of the loop as far as current rock music went.

Owen looked away and sighed. Then he smiled. ‘Fine. Have it your way. Your assignment over half term is to find something you want to play and bring it to me, and I’ll try to help you with it as best I can.’

‘All right.’ Nick nodded. ‘Fine. Thanks.’

Owen glanced at his watch. ‘Time’s up. See you in two weeks.’

Nick stood up and put his Telecaster back in its case. He was aware of Owen watching him with a weary expression on his face.

‘I hope you know that I just want you to be the best that you can be,’ said Owen softly. ‘That’s why I teach.’

‘I know,’ said Nick, looking away from him. He felt suddenly guilty.

‘If you feel like this isn’t working out,’ Owen continued, ‘we can see if we can get you transferred to Francis.’

Nick closed his guitar case and stood up straight, turning towards Owen and looking him square in the face.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Not yet, at least. I’m not a quitter.’

Owen smiled. ‘Good. Neither am I.’ They shook hands. ‘See you in two weeks.’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick. ‘See ya.’

* * *

Stuart looked extremely excited when he arrived at their rehearsal that day. Without stopping to say hello properly, he said, ‘Did you guys hear about the Christmas show? They posted a notice about it today, and anyone who wants to perform can apply! There will be auditions at the end of November.’

Matt scratched his head and grimaced. ‘Do you think we’re ready for that? I mean, we only have a few songs ready and they’re not very good . . .’

‘Of course we’re ready! We will be ready! We will make ourselves ready!’ Stuart looked almost manic, grinning broadly and pacing excitedky, waving his arms about. ‘I think we should play Dull, because that one’s mostly complete from before, we just need to finish the arrangement. And I think Nightmare could be a wonderfully dark and dismal tune to do at a Christmas show.’

‘Hang on, slow up,’ said Nick. ‘Quick time-out, here.’

Stuart stopped pacing and stared at him. Then he blinked, nodded, and sat down behind the drum kit.

‘All right. Let’s start at the beginning. Christmas show. Sounds like a good opportunity to test our wings, I’m all for it. Stuart’s excited, Matt’s ambivalent. Matt?’

Matt shrugged. ‘Well, if you both think we’re ready, I’m game.’

‘Okay. That’s that out of the way,’ said Nick. ‘Next, song choices. Do we even know how many songs they’d let us play?’

‘Well, no,’ Stuart admitted. ‘It didn’t say, but I’m sure we can find out.’

‘Good, do that,’ Nick told him. ‘You said auditions at the end of November. When, exactly?’

‘The twenty-seventh and twenty-eighth,’ said Stuart.

‘Great, that gives us plenty of time, and next week’s half-term, so we’ll have lots of time to practice, assuming we can find a suitable space for it with college closed.’

‘I can see if we can get some slots at Bob’s here in Sapswell,’ Stuart suggested. ‘I’ve rehearsed there before.’

‘Even better. As for the song choices, Dull should be fine, but if we get to do two I think the other one should be something a little more upbeat. Not necessarily happy, just a little less oppressive than Nightmare, so I suggest Birmingham Suicide or Dark Reflex. If we’re allowed three songs, we can take Nightmare into consideration again. We all agreed on this?’

Stuart nodded. Matt only stared at Nick. Nick stared back, eyebrow raised.

‘What? Is there something on my face?’

‘Christ, Nick,’ said Matt, ‘you’re really hot when you take charge like that. You might be front man material after all.’

Nick blushed. ‘Stop taking the piss. We should play something, shouldn’t we?’

He tuned his Telecaster while Stuart set up the drum kit and discussed bass effects for Nightmare with Matt. So far, Nick had been doing vocals while they rehearsed, but he wasn’t entirely certain that he was secure enough in his vocal abilities to perform in front of so many people just yet. He was certainly a lot more nervous than he was willing to let on.

The truth was that, while Nick had been writing songs and singing them to himself for years, he had never even considered the idea of performing that way in front of people. In his guitar he had stability. He had something to hold onto, he knew where his fingers were supposed to go, he was in control. He knew how the guitar worked. He had no idea how his own voice worked.

The idea of performing up on a stage, of standing in front of that many people and singing, terrified him.

* * *

Dave walked through the gates of Dorcrest Independent College. It was late October and the weather was getting a bit chilly, the leaves on the trees having already shifted to yellow and red. His breath misted in front of his face.

‘Excuse me? Dave?’ someone said, and he stopped, turning to face whomever was speaking.

A rather pretty, tall girl with dark brown hair and green eyes stood there. She had obviously rolled up the navy skirt of her uniform quite a bit in spite of the cool weather, showing more thigh than was strictly regulation. Two other girls stood a couple of steps behind her, giggling and whispering.

‘Hi, sorry to bother you,’ said the first girl. ‘I’m Evelyn. We have Psychology together.’

‘Oh yeah, I recognise you,’ said Dave. ‘Hi.’

‘I was just wondering . . .’ Evelyn bit her lip coyly. ‘There are rumours going and I just wanted to know if Mandira Kaur is your girlfriend?’

Dave blinked in surprise. He supposed it was natural enough that there were rumours about him and Mandira, but it wasn’t something that had really occurred to him before now. Why would this girl be asking him that? He cleared his throat. ‘Oh, er, no. She’s not.’

‘Oh, good!’ said Evelyn quickly. ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a sort of dance thing in December, and I was just wondering if you’d maybe like to go with me?’

‘Er, sorry,’ said Dave. ‘Mandira’s not my girlfriend, but I am seeing someone.’

‘Really? Who?’

‘Someone who doesn’t go here. Someone back home. So . . .’

Evelyn shrugged. ‘Well, the dance is quite some time away . . . A lot can happen before December.’

Oh, boy. So it was to be this kind of day. Dave looked down at the ground and shook his head. Then he looked back up at her and smiled. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I happen to be gay, so—’

Evelyn’s eyes widened in shock. ‘What?’

‘—Yeah. So, I’m really flattered and I appreciate your asking me, but I have a boyfriend, so I’m gonna have to decline, okay?’

He left her standing there stuttering and turned away from her, heading for the front doors. He supposed he had now done what his father had told him not to. He had known it would happen eventually, but he had perhaps thought it would take a little bit longer than this.

Word spread fast, and in Maths later that day a boy named Patrick Lawton sat down next to him and said, ‘Is it true that you told Evelyn Masters that you’re gay just so you wouldn’t have to go to the dance with her?’

Dave turned his head and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘I heard you told Evelyn you were gay,’ Patrick repeated.

‘Yes, I said that,’ said Dave, ‘but I didn’t say it because I didn’t want to go to the dance with her. I said it because it’s true.’

‘What, seriously?’ Patrick looked severely taken aback. ‘You mean, you’re actually—you actually like cock? I mean, you like doing it with guys?’

Dave rolled his eyes. ‘Honestly, what is it with you people? Has there never been a gay person at this college before? Yes, I “like doing it with guys” or, specifically, a guy. I happen to like a cock, yes. Happy? Or is there anything else you’d like to know about what I do with my boyfriend in the privacy of my bedroom or his?’

Patrick blushed to the tips of his ears, and just like that Dave was completely and utterly, definitely out. He had thought it would feel like a bigger deal, but he supposed that, having already come out once, the second time had been less scary. It wasn’t like he cared what people here thought of him, anyway. He was here to get his education, and Dave was not a person to be bullied.

At least today was the last day before half term. Hopefully by the time they all returned, everyone would have had time to process the news that would no doubt spread like wildfire from this moment onwards. Dave would deal with it then.

* * *

He rang Nick’s doorbell, and thought his boyfriend must have been waiting just inside the door because it opened almost immediately, and he stepped inside.

‘Good timing,’ Nick told him. ‘Dinner’s almost done.’ He smiled.

‘Mm, half term,’ Dave purred happily, sliding his arms around Nick’s waist and pulling him close. ‘Just imagine that. A whole week when we’ll be able to see each other whenever we want.’

‘Yeah, except I’ve got a couple of rehearsals in Sapswell,’ said Nick. ‘Sorry . . . There’s a Christmas show we’re gonna audition for, so we need to take some time to practice. It won’t be very long, I’ll be here most of the time.’ He looked genuinely apologetic, and Dave smiled.

‘Well, I’ve got work to do as well, so we won’t be able to be together every second of every day anyway. But maybe I could sleep over a few times, and we could go out some evening, for a bite to eat or maybe a movie?’

‘Definitely!’ said Nick and kissed him on the cheek. Then he took him by the hand and led him towards the kitchen.

‘Oh, by the way,’ said Dave, suddenly remembering. ‘I sort of outed myself to the whole college today.’

Nick stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. ’Really? No way!’

Dave laughed at his surprised expression. ’Some girl tried to ask me to a dance, and wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I had to be honest.’ He smirked. ‘The look on her face was utterly priceless.’

Nick laughed. ‘That’s brilliant. Nice to have it over with, right? I somehow thought I’d be out before you, though. I mean, everyone from Windfield knows but it doesn’t seem like they’ve been spreading it around. Oh, if we get the Christmas show gig, you can come watch and then you can out me in front of any onlookers.’ He grinned. ‘That would be the way to do it, eh? You could bring Mandira, too. Her parents might even let her now.’

‘I think they probably would,’ said Dave. ‘And of course I’ll come watch! It’ll be your first live performance. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

‘Good,’ said Nick. ‘Cause I’m actually pretty nervous. The others have decided that I’m supposed to sing, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.’

‘But you have a gorgeous voice!’ said Dave. ‘Your voice is part of why I fell in love with you.’ It sounded very cheesy, and he felt himself blush as he said it.

Nick looked up at him and smiled. ‘Really?’

Dave nodded. ‘Really.’ Then he kissed him.

‘Dinner’s done, you guys!’ Zoë called from the kitchen.

‘Right, come on,’ said Nick, breaking the kiss and slapping Dave’s arse playfully. ‘Time for meatloaf!’

‘I’ll give you meatloaf later on,’ said Dave with a smirk as they took the remaining few steps towards the kitchen.

‘Oh, groan!’ said Nick. Then he grinned. ‘I may have to hold you to that.’

* * *

Bob’s was a music shop that dealt primarily in second hand instruments, and that had rehearsal spaces in the back. Stuart booked them three slots during half term, and Nick showed up for the first of them a little bit early. He spent the extra time browsing the shop and immediately fell in love with a fuzz pedal.

‘You like it?’ asked the man behind the counter, who Nick could only assume was Bob.

‘Yeah, it’s gorgeous,’ said Nick, running his fingers over it. ‘I’ve been looking for one of these actually, but I can’t really afford it.’

‘You here to rehearse?’ asked Bob, and Nick nodded. ‘Tell you what. You promise to be careful, I’ll let you borrow it for your rehearsal. If you still want it, we’ll see if we can sort something out. I might let you pay it off in instalments or something.’

‘Really?’ Nick turned to the man in astonishment.

‘Hey, why do you think I run my shop the way I do?’ The man looked around at the tightly packed shelves. ‘I want kids like you to play rock ’n roll. I can afford to help you out every once in a while, you know?’

Nick grinned. ‘Wow, thank you.’ He stepped up to the counter and offered his hand. ‘Nick Davis.’

‘Bob Humblebee,’ the man replied, shaking his hand. ‘So, if you’re rehearsing here this afternoon, that means you’re a friend of Stuart’s, I suppose?’

‘Yeah.’ Nick nodded. ‘We’ve just started a band together. We’re hoping to perform together at the Christmas show at Sapswell College.’

‘Your band have a name?’ asked Bob.

‘The Oxymorons,’ said Nick.

Bob nodded, slowly. ‘That’s a pretty cool name. Has a bit of a punky feel to it.’

‘I dunno how punky we are, but I think the name suits us.’

‘So is there an actual Fender in there?’ Bob nodded to Nick’s guitar case.

‘Yeah. Telecaster.’

‘Ah, good man!’ said Bob with a grin. ‘Takes guts to rock out on a Telecaster. No fuss, no muss. Recognising the raw power you can get out of them single coils, that’s an art form in itself, mate.’

‘My family went insane and bought it for me for Christmas last year. I can expect tacky angels and toilet roll Santas for Christmas for the next ten years, mind, but it’s worth it.’

Bob laughed. ‘Well, at least you know they love you.’

A bell jingled as the front door opened. ‘Oh, you’re already here, Nick,’ said Stuart. ‘Matt’s just outside having a cigarette. Don’t know how he copes, it’s freezing out there. How’s tricks, Bob?’

‘Not bad,’ said Bob, nodding. ‘Just getting acquainted with young Nick, here. Yourself?’

‘Bloody awful, but thanks for asking,’ said Stuart with a grin. ‘Right, shall we go set up, then?’

Nick nodded and picked up his case.

‘Don’t forget the pedal,’ said Bob with a smile. ‘I meant what I said.’

‘Oh, yeah. Ta.’ Nick took the pedal with him into the back.

‘You’re in room two!’ Bob called after them. ‘Your favourite drum kit, Stuart.’

‘Yeah, cheers!’ Stuart replied over his shoulder.

The rehearsal room was well equipped. There was already a microphone, Beta 58A, plugged into the Yamaha PA system. There was a generous selection of amps to choose from, and Nick selected a Fender Mustang one, a larger and slightly fancier model than the one he had at home, plugging in the fuzz pedal and his Telecaster while Stuart set up the drum kit. A couple of minutes later, Matt showed up.

‘Nice guy, that,’ he said, inclining his head back towards the shop.

‘Who, Bob? Yeah, he’s all right,’ said Stuart with a shrug.

‘I think he’s brilliant!’ Nick grinned. ‘He let me borrow this pedal for rehearsal, and he said that if I wanted it he might let me pay for it in instalments.’

‘That’s pretty cool,’ said Matt, plugging his bass into a rather large and rumbly amplifier. ‘Ooh, I like this,’ he said, turning the knobs until the room was singing with bass notes.

‘Yeah, this isn’t the Matt Taylor Solo Show, you know,’ said Nick, covering his ears.

‘Says the guy who wanted to name the band the Nickelodeons,’ Matt shot back with a grin, but he turned down the volume anyway.

‘Okay, down to business,’ said Stuart. ‘I’ve found out that they’ll let us play one or two songs depending on how many applicants there are and, basically, how good we are.’

‘All right, so Dull, and should we do Birmingham Suicide or Dark Reflex?’

Matt grimaced. ‘Birmingham Suicide is kind of silly, isn’t it?’

‘You only think so because you wrote most of the lyrics,’ said Nick. ‘Now you know how I feel most of the time.’

‘I think we should do Dark Reflex just cause the title has a sense of oxymoron to it,’ said Stuart.

Nick threw up his arms in surrender. ‘Fine, I’ll consider myself overruled.’ He pulled a pick out of his pocket and strummed an A-minor chord on his guitar. ‘Let’s play.’

I've had a bit of a break in my posting schedule, for New Year's and visits from awesome friends, but I have now returned! Hope you liked the chapter—it's the least angsty one in a little while.