Weeping Lily - 1. Chapter 1

The buzz was incredible. They couldn’t have been still if they’d wanted to and they didn’t want to. They bounced. They talked over each other. They slapped each other on the back and they grinned. They just couldn’t stop grinning. The roar of the crowd was still loud in their heads and faintly audible by their ears through the closed doors.

As performers they lived for the performance and they had just given the performance of their lives, including three encores, and the crowd were roaring, clamouring for more. They would subside in a moment, they would fall back into their seats and begin to siphon out of the auditorium, talking excitedly, walking on air, carrying the experience out into the night and into their lives; so many of them, so many people who had been touched by magic, by genius, and they would never forget.

“Fuck man! FUCK!! I NEVER get tired of that.”

The band members bounded the last few hundred yards to their dressing room and threw themselves into chairs, all except Rik who couldn’t stop bouncing and Jayden who, as usual perched on the edge of a table.

The door burst open and Jeff Maudley the group’s manager burst in, hardly less excited than the boys.

“Great show boys, they ate you up. You really outdid yourselves. It was awesome. I have never heard you play better. I know I was reluctant to put in that new stuff at this stage but it’s freaking awesome... poetry... magic.”

Four fifths of the group started talking at him all at once. The fifth remained silent and just smiled.

Jerry flung himself into a chair and grinned. “So that’s it guys. The end of your very first world tour. How does it feel?”

“Fucking awesome man.”

“Wild.”

“What’s next?”

“Woah there. Take it easy. Don’t want you burning out in your prime eh? What do you want to do next?”

“More of the same, man. Fucking HELL The Buzz is amazing. I wanna play man... play, play, play.”

Ashton, the lead guitarist grabbed his guitar and knocked out a series of raging rifts. The guitar sang, it practically yelled excitement.

“Easy tiger. Well, I have some news. Your album went platinum today and guess who’s No 1 in the UK charts?”

A new wave of excitement swept through the band and they were all on their feet whooping.

“How the hell did that happen?”

“Clearly you’ve managed to appeal to a lot more than your target audience... whatever that was. And there’s more.”

“More?”

“You’ve got more offers coming in than I can handle; interviews, photo shoots, TV appearances... and some... freaking amazing gigs.”

“TV.”

“Photo shoots.”

“What gigs?”

Jerry smiled, looking around at the eager, excited faces. He could have predicted with eyes and ears closed exactly who would fix on which part of the news.

Ashton was interested only in the performance. He was in love with the music and couldn’t have cared if he played to a hundred or a hundred thousand. He lived in a world of his own half the time and often stopped in the middle of whatever he was doing to play something through on his guitar which was never far away. He was the quiet dreamy type and was not entirely comfortable giving interviews or talking about himself at all.

Rik was bass. He too loved performing but not with the same passion. He was so laid back there were times he didn’t seem to care about anything, although he did, passionately. He analysed everything, needing reasons to do anything; was thoughtful and introvert. He would have been happy to do anything as long as it allowed him to play and be with his friends.

Cal was an entirely different kettle of fish. He was a complete exhibitionist. He gloried in the attention, loved nothing more than to be the centre of attraction and was never happier than when in front of a camera. In a group where physical beauty was not in short supply, he shone. Not least because he worked hard at it. He went to the gym whenever he could, kept his perfectly proportioned body in top condition, took care of his skin and spent hours tending his long, wild hair. A versatile and gifted musician he played an array of instruments and occasionally sang. He would have liked the role permanently except that he knew Jayden was so much better.

Luc played guitar, synth and drums, and fell easily into the role of clown. He was full of energy, full of fun. He played practical jokes on friend and stranger alike. Nothing was too hot or too heavy. He and Cal made quite a pair, constantly vying for the limelight, outdoing each other in the outrageousness of their appearance and behaviour.

And then there was Jayden. He looked and sang like an angel, albeit a fallen one and he was the heart of the group. He held them all together, with the heart of a poet, the mind of a lawyer and the soul of a lost boy, thrust into a world he didn’t understand, surrounded by people he couldn’t relate to, apart from the rest of the group. He had no one; no one except himself and it was all he needed. He didn’t care whether he was performing or posing for a photograph or talking one on one with the fans. The only thing he truly hated was giving interviews, exposing his inner self – that was something he shared with no one.

Interviews were something that, in the age of media, were essential for anyone who was or wanted to be anyone... magazines, chat shows, day time tv... everyone wanted a piece of the rapidly rising stars who had come from nowhere and astounded their critics by smashing the preconceptions of a genre with hitherto limited appeal, to burst on an unsuspecting and unprepared mainstream; borne on the backs of an unprecedented wave of popularity that bordered on hysteria.

Interviews were unavoidable and Jeff’s stock in trade when handling public relations at this level. In the beginning he had booked them for anything and everything he could get into and onto. It was a disaster.

Oh, they had been successful from a public relations point of view. The boys were pretty to look at and chock full of personality. They had interviewers and the public eating out of their hands. Put simply the boys, as a whole, interviewed well. It didn’t matter whether their responses were recorded in the written media or filmed for broadcast they oozed personality, sex appeal and a certain exuberant, natural innocence that was rare in an era of spoiled brat pop stars, divas and forced polish. They were no ‘boy band’ but they fitted the niche created by them...if by ‘fitted’ you read ‘blew wide open’.

No, the interviews had been successful for the band as a whole, certainly for their image, and they were at least partially responsible for their meteoric rise... but they had taken their toll on Jayden to the point where it had almost triggered the end of the band altogether.

Jeff felt a flash of sadness, as he always did when the thought of Jayden. He was watching him, a smile on his face, but a shutter firmly closed behind his eyes... just as always.

“What about you Jayden? What do you want?”

He looked surprised, caught off guard and the smile slipped for a moment.

“I’m easy. I trust you Jeff... whatever you think best.” A typical Jayden answer.

“Well, what do you say about a few weeks R & R in a luxury villa in Grand Canaria? Compliments of the record company.”

“No way!”

“Fucking awesome.”

“It will give you a chance to work on your tans ready for some photo shoots... magazines, posters and... wait for it... talks about a Disney movie.”

“What? Like High School Musical?”

“More like Camp Rock.”

“Forget it!”

“What?”

“Can you imagine what a Disney movie would do to our rep? I mean they’ve already ‘popped up’ rock... I mean... yeah right. Can’t you just see us in the same room as Zac Ephraim and The Jonas Brothers... fucking hell... we’d eat them for breakfast and wouldn’t even spit out the bones. Just because we don’t smash up hotel rooms doesn’t mean we’re wholesome good guy role models. They’d have to neuter us Jeff... water us down until we lost our identity. No way am I going to be Disneyfied.”

“I agree.” The fact that Jayden had expressed an opinion at all shocked everyone into silence. He looked uncomfortable. “I mean... do they have any idea what we’re about? Have they listened to our music? We’re a Goth band. We sing about death, decay, pain... the ugly side of life. We expose the darkness of the soul. Since when does Disney do that?

“There’s always a first time for everything.”

“Not for that Jeff. I’m not going to be turned into a sanitised, stylised version of myself. I’m not going to be a role model for anyone.” Realising that everyone was staring at him he shook his head and turned away. “God forbid that anyone gets that fucked up they look to me as a role model.”

“Might do you some good.”

“Yeah right.”

“Well that’s that then. The great Jayden has spoken.” Although he tried to keep his voice light there was a tinge of bitterness that he could not quite disguise, almost an accusation. Jayden looked up at him his eyes, as always veiled. Not for the first time Jeff reeled under that gaze... it was so intense and so... He shivered and forced himself to smile.

“Not great.... just....”

“Look, just think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about Jeff.” Cal spoke with something akin to a note of warning in his voice. “We’re not Disney material,” he finished finally.

Jeff was genuinely surprised. Of them all he would have thought that Cal was the one who would have gone for the project. But Cal, like everyone else was looking at Jayden, a strange look on his face. Despite everything, over everything, perhaps because of everything, they were friends and they stuck together, looked out for each other and were all strangely protective of Jayden. It was something he had never really understood.

Jeff had been managing the group for almost three years. He had watched them progress from a bunch of kids gigging as and when they could, just for fun, to a group of poised and confident young men, set to be the next big thing, taking the world by storm. In that time he had got to know each one of them, made it his business to... and he had succeeded with all of them, all except Jayden. He was a closed book, and there were times when he disappeared, sometimes for days at a time. The others accepted it without question, closed ranks, protected him.

Like the whole interview thing. It had been going so well... or so Jeff had thought. The boys were taking the world by storm and everyone wanted a piece of them. He had booked six or seven interviews over a two week period and the first week had gone fine... or so he thought. On the second to last interview the interviewer had asked Jayden a question. Jeff couldn’t even remember what the question had been about now, something innocuous, at least it appeared to be... but Jayden had reacted in a very unexpected way.

First he had politely refused to answer and then, when the interviewer pursued him he had gone very still, shaking his head and looking as though he was going to either bolt or cry. Cal had immediately stepped in to try and divert the questions away and the others had closed ranks but the interviewer kept going for Jayden, realising that there was something going on and he was the focus.

Even though the others had done their best to shield him, clearly Jayden had felt exposed and it had hit him hard. Even after the interviewer had moved on to other things Jayden had remained frozen, staring into the distance, not participating and every so often one or other of the group would cast worried glances in his direction, as if they expected him to bolt... which is exactly what he did.

About two thirds of the way through the interview, the interviewer directed another question at Jayden, an even more innocuous one, and he had not even attempted to answer, he had just got to his feet and walked away. Cal had followed while the others, although shocked had tried to carry on with the interview. Fortunately it had not been a televised interview but one for a teen magazine and, when Cal came back fifteen minutes later to say that Jayden was sick it was accepted and nothing ever came of it.

Except that when Jeff went to look for Jayden after the interview he had gone and no one saw him again for three days. Jeff had been on the verge of calling the police more than once but the boys were insistent that this is what Jayden did. They reassured him that he would come back, and he had. There had never been any explanation although Jeff had sought one. All he got was a direct but blank look from Jayden and diversionary tactics from the rest.

At first he had tried to push it but he had been taken aside by Cal who had politely but firmly told him that if he didn’t stop pushing Jayden then they would push him... right out the door and if necessary that would be the end of the group. He had been shocked but had accepted... he’d had no choice as there had never been any question that Cal, or any of the boys would not have followed through.

That had been the first time and there had been others. As Jeff got to know the boys he grew to accept Jayden’s moods and the strange protectiveness of the others as just another group dynamic. Jayden was ordinarily a sweet boy with time for everyone and a calming influence on the more exuberant members of the group so it had been easy to accept his foibles.

He had made sure that there had been fewer interviews and all interviewers were given strict orders to direct their questions at the group as a whole or the other members. Jayden was out of bounds for direct questioning. Most interviewers accepted this without question. After all, all performers, especially those on the ascendant, had their demands and, as things went this band was generally undemanding. There were the odd few mavericks that pushed things and were put firmly in their place by the others... and there were times when Jayden was up for it. When he wanted to he had the intelligence, charm and wit to command an interview... the problem was he seldom wanted to.

“Alright. You’re the bosses. I’ll work on other things.”

“Great. Thanks Jeff. We trust you and the holiday is just what we need right now.”

“Okay, well get yourselves back to the hotel and freshen up. I have some tickets to a very exclusive club tonight. Call it an end of tour party and tomorrow at noon the limo picks you up for the airport.”

“Yay Jeff.”

*******************

Back at the hotel suite the excitement continued. No one made a move to get ready for the party. They were making a serious dent in the mini bar stocks though, as well as the bottle of champagne Jeff had had sent ahead of them.

Only Jayden made a bee line for the shower, casting off the feelings of raw unease that had dogged him since the meeting with Jeff, leaving it on the bathroom floor with his clothes. Raising his face to the shower head he let the water wash away the stress and tension, leaving him clean and new. With a deep sigh he stepped out, towelling his hair, another wrapped around his waist. He met Cal at the bathroom door.

“If you want hot water you had better get to it.”

“Nah... sweat’s a natural aphrodisiac. I’m looking to get laid tonight, at least twice.”

“Is that all you ever think about?”

“Pretty much.” There was a strange look in his friend’s eyes that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. They wandered downward as if against his will then snapped up again as Cal grinned, the strange expression vanishing. “And if you are looking for the same thing you can try the naked approach but I would recommend leaving something to the imagination.”

Jayden returned the grin, the tension released. “What time is the limo coming?”

“Midnight. Kinda appropriate huh?”

“It feels weird to be going out at this time of night.”

“Everything’s weird now we’re big stars. A whole new world.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, we have half an hour. Not enough time for us all to shower anyway and definitely not enough time for you to get ready Jay.”

Jayden smiled a distant expression on his face. Picking up a glass of champagne he wandered over to the window and stared out at the twinkling lights, above and below. He absently stroked the waxy white lilies that stood in a vase on the table nearby. The suite was full of them. They were the trademark of the group... ‘Weeping Lilies’. Here and there one of the blooms was dyed black in accordance with their logo, a single black Cala Lily with one blood red teardrop about to fall from its lip.

He was in a pensive mood, unsettled and melancholy. The moon hung heavy in the sky over the familiar skyline, competing with the lights of the City and casting a pall of unreality over the whole scene. Body still throbbing from the music and adrenaline rush of performing he rubbed his temple and sighed.

“Oh great. Jayden’s in one of his moods. So who is going to stay with him?” Luc’s voice was light but held a note that was born of concern and not annoyance.

“No one is going to stay with me because I’m going to the party. Now go, shower, because stale sweat is NOT an aphrodisiac, trust me, and I have to sit with you freaks.”

“You’ll never be ready in time.”

“Bet you I will.”

And he was. As usual, with minimal effort he outshone them all, he always did. Surprisingly there was no envy, none at all, not even from Cal because... well because he was Jayden.

There was more champagne in the limo and more lilies. By the time they got to the club they were in high spirits and it only got better when they arrived to find cheering crowds outside awaiting their arrival. They felt like stars as they were escorted from the limo by burly security guards.

Inside, the club was cool and dark. Jeff led them to a roped off section and they were served drinks by scantily clad waitresses and were soon joined by a gaggle of pretty girls, all of whom had only one thing on their minds. Jayden handled it for about half an hour by shutting off the inane chatter and resolutely staring out at the dance floor, ‘people watching’. He hated this kind of party although, he berated himself, what exactly had he expected if not this? He hated the superficiality of the chat, the people, the girls who threw themselves at him, neither knowing or caring who he really was or whether he was remotely interested in them, which he wasn’t.

No one noticed when he crept away from the group, out of the booth and went to stand by the bar. He barely even noticed when someone slipped into the seat next to him.

“Penny for them.”

“Huh?” He looked up into a pair of fairly nondescript grey eyes in a pleasant but unremarkable face.

“Your thoughts. They seem.... dark.”

“They often are.”

“Even in the middle of a party?”

“Especially in the middle of a party.”

The girl laughed. “I know what you mean. Hi. I’m Siona.”

“Hello Siona, I’m Jayden.”

Siona laughed. “No need for introductions there. I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are.”

Jayden frowned. “Do you? Do they?”

“I’m sure they would if you let them. I know I would.”

“Yeah right.” But he couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay, let me buy you a drink and I’ll just sit here and not talk and not get to know you at all.”

The smile widened. “Okay then. It’s a deal.”

Siona was easy to talk to. She had a straightforward manner and light wit. After a while Jayden took her back to meet the group and she blushed uncomfortably as they ribbed her. It was especially spirited because it was Jayden who had introduced her. Jayden very rarely took an interest in any of the girls who were always present wherever the group went. When he did it was generally those with a keen brain whom he would sit up talking and drinking with all night, and generally kept in touch with afterwards. He was not in the business of collecting trophies. Not that Siona was a trophy. Almost immediately he regretted introducing her.

“Sorry about this.”

Siona smiled shyly and shrugged. She said something which was drowned out by the music, which seemed suddenly very loud. Had someone turned it up? Jayden looked up and found that the voices of his friends seemed strangely distorted and jarred his ears, driving slivers of pain into his head.

“Is it me or is it hot in here?”

“Oh yeah baby... hot, hot, hot.” Cal had his arms around two beautiful blondes and was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. But there was something wrong with his face, it was distorted, his voice coming from a long way away. Jayden looked around at the others and they were all the same.

“Hey... hey... Jayden... Jayden are you okay?”

He looked at her and blinked, his vision fading in and out of focus.

“I... I don’t know.”

“Do you want to get some air?”

Smiling thankfully he got to his feet and the room lurched. He swayed, almost knocking over the table.

“Woah there. Wassup buddy?”

They were all looking at him with concern and he was swept with a wave of claustrophobia bordering on paranoia.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I... I’m just... I need some air.”

“Too much champagne bro? Not like you.” Cal was frowning at him, a look of... concern and something more... in his eyes. Suddenly all Jayden could think about was getting away from him, getting away from them all. He lurched as he stumbled on the step. Siona steadied him and led him through a swirling sea of colour, light and sound. He had no idea where he was going, and he really didn’t care.

When the cold night air hit his face Jayden roused a little and he looked around, surprised and blinking in the moonlight. Siona took him by the hand and led him across the yard and out into a secure car park.

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

“Safe? I... I didn’t think I wasn’t. Where is this?”

“The car park.”

“Why are we here?”

“Because I think you’ve had enough and I’m going to take you home.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” They stopped at a pale blue convertible and Siona opened the door for him. “I... I’m sorry about this. I... don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not usually like this.”

“I’m sure you’re not. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.”

Throwing her bag onto the back seat Siona slid into the driving seat and started the engine. Jayden didn’t register the click of the doors locking.

Siona drove quickly and confidently and Jayden closed his eyes, unable to stand the stabbing lights and wild blurring images flashing in front of his eyes through the windscreen. He groaned aloud.

“Shit! I... I’m sorry. I... don’t usually... It must have been the champagne.”

“Oh, it wasn’t the champagne.”

“Huh?” There was something strange in her voice and he opened his eyes and tried to focus on her.

“It wasn’t the champagne. It was this.” She help up a tiny bottle which he could barely see. “I put it in your drink while you were talking to your friends.”

He was sinking fast, could feel the drug pulling him down, pushing him on the inexorable slide into darkness. He was too far gone even to feel fear.

“Why?”

“You’ll see. Don’t worry, my darling, you’ll see. All in good time. You just sleep now. Close your eyes and go to sleep and when you wake up all will be clear.”

“No... no I... I... please... stop.”

“I’m not going to stop Jayden. Not now, not for a long time, a very long time.”

It occurred to Jayden that he should do something but his body was suddenly as heavy as lead. He couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it, which, for an instant flash of fear he realised it very well might. But then it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

“It’s for the best Jayden. You’ll understand soon, I promise.”

For a moment he wanted to respond but only for a moment. He opened his eyes to a world of swirling colour and light and then they all spun into darkness.