Aria Graice - 16. Chapter 16

Upon returning to the house after an unexpectedly good evening, the twins went straight to bed. Ben was also staying over, and he kicked off his shoes, making himself comfortable in front of the television. He didn’t invite Drew to join him and Drew wouldn’t have accepted if he had.

After taking a long, hot shower, Drew dressed in lounge pants and t-shirt rather than pyjamas and sprawled on the bed with a book while he waited.

He woke with a start, and a glance at the clock told him it was half-past-four. His first thought was that Amara had changed his mind, but a hesitant knock on the door rapidly changed his mind.

“Come in,” he called softly.

At first, he thought it was Aria, because the boy, dressed in a pastel lilac kimono, was scrubbed clean and hesitant, standing in the doorway with head bowed and hands clasped in front of him. Drew’s second thought was that it must be some kind of trick, but there was nothing anywhere in Amara’s stance that suggested the boy was anything but wretched and afraid. Drew’s mind flicked to his conversation with Ben. It was true that the boys had been brought up their entire lives around actors of the highest calibre. Their godfather was Royal Shakespeare Company trained and their Godmother had more Oscars than she could fit on a shelf. However, he seriously doubted anyone could be this good for this long.

“Do you want to come in?”

Amara shook his head.

“Then what?”

Amara motioned with his head then slipped out of the door. Drew carefully set down his book and followed. He had a strong sense that something bad was about to happen and wished, not for the first time, he had a gun, but that wasn’t an option, so he’d have to make do.

Moving silently, Drew followed Amara as he padded along the corridor and onto the servants’ stairs. Drew instantly knew where they were going.

Amara didn’t say a single word until they’d arrived in the kitchen. He immediately, and without turning on a light, went to the fridge, took out a bottle of milk, poured it into a large bowl and set it in the microwave.

“Could you get the light, please?” he said at last. “Not the main one, the one over the table. The switch is on the wall to your right, the nearest to you.”

Drew located the switch and a pendant light, hanging low over the table bathed the kitchen in a soft, grey light.

“You can’t see it from the street or the upstairs windows,” Amara said.

“Good thinking. I take it you didn’t tell Aria you were coming.”

“No.” The word was so soft Drew barely heard it.

“Does he know what’s been going on?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Drew sat at the table determined not to ask Amara any questions but to allow him to come to it in his own time. He watched Amara potter about the kitchen, toasting and buttering bread, making cocoa, stalling. He seemed so small, barely there, a ghost moving through space without really touching anything.

Finally, Amara set a plate of toast in the middle of the table and a mug of cocoa in front of Drew. Drew took the mug and sipped. Amara simply stared into his.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?”

“Oh. Yes.” Amara perched on the edge of a chair, twisting his mug in his hands.

“Amara, you don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to tell me anything. Just know I’m here for you.”

“Shit.” Amara practically dropped the mug onto the table and covered his face with his hands, rocking. “Why do you have to be so nice?”

“I’m not being particularly nice, Amara. I’m just being a decent human being. I’m not even particularly good at it. The truth is, I have no idea what to say to you. I’m just trying to remember what my mother would say when either me or one of my sisters got into trouble. Or this friend of mine who’s got a big mouth which sometimes manages to say the right things.”

Amara glanced up, his eyes glistening unnaturally bright. “I’m such a loser.”

“You? A loser? I don’t think so. You’re a fucking Rockstar, man. You’re a household name, a pin up, the person every boy wants to be and every girl – and a fair few boys – want to fuck. What more could you want?”

Amara stared at him for a while, then crossed his arms on the table and buried his face.

“It’s not me, though, is it? Not really. It’s like…like a cage, no not a cage. I don’t feel like I’m in a cage. Like a crysallis? No.” He raised his head. “I know. It’s like a big ball of candy-floss. A rainbow web of spun sugar, but I’m not the candy, I’m the stick. It all happens around me, and sure I hold it together but…. Take me away and it will all still be there.”

“I repeat. I don’t think so. If you’re not there who’s going to get on the stage in front of all those people? Who’d go on tour and do interviews and photo shoots?”

“Oh sure, they roll me out for the gigs, but they could do without everything else. They’d probably do better if I was a mysterious recluse. I don’t have what Aria has – the hands-on connection with fans, the complete absorption into what I do, the control. Sometimes it feels like I’m just part of their hype, a doll, a creation; not a real person at all.”

“I think everyone in the public eye feel like that sometimes.” Drew pushed the plate of toast across the table to nudge Amara’s arm. Amara gazed at it blankly for a moment, then took a piece of toast, but didn’t bite it.

“The only time I’m really happy,” he whispered, “is when I’m making music, or when I’m with Aria, making him laugh. I love it when Aria laughs. He’s so full of joy. I’d do anything to make him laugh.”

“That’s why you work so hard to protect him.”

Amara nodded. “He’s been through so much shit with her, but he still loves life so much. He’s so much better than me.”

“He’s not better than you.”

Amara chuckled mirthlessly. “You know he is.”

“He’s very different. He’s got a completely different vibe, different energy. Different, but not better.”

“You see the way people are with him. They want to be with him because he makes them feel good. He cares and everyone can tell. He’ll give until he’s got nothing left, but the crazy thing is people don’t take from him. They fall over themselves to give, because he’s just that kind of person. Like a puppy they want to shower with presents and love. He soaks it all up but he never gets spoiled, never takes advantage or takes it for granted. When we go to the projects everyone rushed around knocking themselves out to get his attention. He talks to them, listens to them, plays pool with then. I don’t know what to say. I help in the kitchen, wait tables, sometimes I do some paperwork, but I don’t really interact and they all think I’m up myself. The only thing I do well is flirt and fuck and everyone knows it.”

“That’s not all you do. You have plenty of good qualities.”

“Like what? Haven’t you noticed? Aria’s friends put up with me because I’m Aria’s brother. They’re proper friends. Okay maybe they’re shallow, spoiled and silly, but they care. They’d be there for him if he reached out. My friends on the other hand would run a mile if I reached out to them. If I wanted to take instead of give. They’re there for the parties, the drugs, the special treatment, but that’s about as far as it goes. No one listens.”

“I’ll listen.”

“Yeah,” Amara huffed. “I’m just another stupid spoiled brat, whinging about their first world problems from the top of their stinking mound of privilege. I’ve got nothing to whine about.”

He got up and took his untouched mug to the sink where he tipped the contents down the drain and swilled it out.

“That’s not true. I can see you don’t have it easy. I see you struggle and I think if you reached out a bit more you’d be surprised how many people are there for you.”

“Like who? You?”

“Yes, and Aria, Emma, Alicia, Mason. They love you. Not just Aria. And your friend, Jay? He really seems to care about you.”

“Yeah, Jay’s cool. They’re not a “he” though.”

“I’m sorry? They?”

“Jay’s non binary, gender fluid. They don’t identify as male or female.”

“Oh shit. I’m not good at this. I’ll try to remember. He, I mean they—they really want to be they? Like there’s two of them?”

“No, not like there’s two of them, like there’s only one of them who doesn’t fit into either of the traditional designations of male and female and doesn’t like any of the other pronoun sets. They feel comfortable with they so that’s what they’ll be.”

Drew nodded slowly. It was a lot for a boy from the valleys, but he’d had sensitivity training in the army and although he struggled to empathise, he had no trouble with respecting.

“I can’t say I understand what it’s like to feel like that. I understand transgender better, at least I think I do, but it doesn’t matter whether I understand or not, they understand and they have the right to be whatever they want, whatever God made them. At least, what God would have made them if he’d existed.”

“How do you know she doesn’t.”

Drew chuckled. “You got me.”

“You’re wrong about transgender though. Transgender includes anyone who doesn’t conform to the biological binary of male and female. Non binary, gender queer, androgynous, gender fluid…and so many more, are all included under the trans umbrella. You know, the one that makes a T in LGBT, although it’s not LGBT these days. That’s kind of an old fashioned shorthand—and I’m not getting into all that tonight.”

“Fair enough. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe sometime. You’d be better asking Google though. They’re much better at explaining than I am.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You make it sound pretty clear to me. I’ve definitely learned not to be blasé about my gender designation. I’ll try not to assume so much.”

Amara shrugged. “Cool.”

“Anyway, the point, that I seem to have lost for a moment, is that you have friends too, like Jay.”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“But? I’m sure I heard a but.”

“No, not really. Not a but, something else.”

“Okay. Something else?”

Amara sat and began to turn a piece of toast into breadcrumbs. “I don’t care what you say, I know Aria’s better than me, but he’s…. Not weak. He’s not weak but he’s…. Fragile? I don’t know. I just know I want to protect him, you know. From everything. I know I can’t, and when I try things get all screwed up, but I want to. I need to.”

“Okay, I understand. What do you feel the need to protect him from?”

Amara’s fingers stilled and he dropped the bread, absently rubbing one arm. Drew didn’t think he even realized he was doing it. Something occurred to him and bile rose to this throat. He reached across the table and stilled Amara’s hand. Amara jumped at the touch, but he didn’t pull away when Drew slid back the sleeve of the kimono.

There was a long, tense silence, during which Amara trembled and Drew ground his teeth. Eventually, he leaned back, releasing Amara’s wrist.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Please, Drew. Promise you won’t do anything. I don’t want you to do anything.”

“Just tell me.” Something cold and hard gripped Drew and although he fought to keep it out of his voice, it made his words and posture stiff. Amara, clearly frightened, drew back, shaking his head.

“No,” he whispered. “Not unless you promise. Don’t do anything. Please. It will only make things worse.”

With a supreme effort, Drew managed to get himself under control. He forced his shoulders to relax. “I’m sorry,” he said when he could be sure he was able to pitch his voice soft and low. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just don’t like to see anyone get hurt. Especially not….” He pulled himself up short, hearing the words as he spoke, or almost spoke them. He paused for a moment to examine his reactions. He’d been about to say, “especially not you,” because that was true and then some. The thought of anyone laying hands on Amara, marking his perfect skin, the thought of his beautiful eyes wide with fear, begging not to be hurt was almost too much to bear. Now why the hell is that?

“Especially not someone as weak and pathetic as me.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“It’s true though. How many other people do you know who get hurt by their own bodyguard?”

“So, Ben is hurting you. How?”

Amara’s posture was so stiff he could have been made of stone, but then he folded in on himself and sank his head onto his arms again. It took everything in him to stop Drew reaching over to stroke his hair.

“I…. He…. I never liked him. Right from the start, I didn’t trust him. There was just something about him even when he was being friendly. I kicked off, did everything I could to get him to leave, but nothing worked. I tried sacking him, but Mother got cross because we’d chased off two guards between us in three months. She told me if I insisted on making decisions for myself I’d have to live with the consequences.”

“Didn’t you tell her he was hurting you?”

“He wasn’t, not then. I mean he was arrogant and rude and disobedient, but he didn’t hurt either of us. He was a good guard and if we avoided him whenever we could, we got by well enough.”

“What happened?”

“He found out about Aria, then about what we were doing. He told me he was going to tell Mother, and I begged him, I told him I’d do anything he asked if he’d leave Aria alone and keep his secret.”

“Was that when he started getting his “perks”?”

Amara winced but nodded. “At first it was just a few drugs now and then, introductions, party invites, that kind of thing. But he started demanding more and more. He….made promised in exchange for—”

Drew hadn’t intended on slamming his fist down on the table, but what he was hearing was too much for him. “He pimped you?”

Amara had leaped away from the table and cowered against the worktops, shaking his head. “No, not like that. Well…sometimes like that, but not often, and not when we were under age.”

“Oh well that’s alright then,” Drew drawled and Amara winced again.

“It’s mostly favours. My private box, VIP Backstage Passes, that kind of thing.”

“And what does he get out of it?”

“Drugs sometimes, money….sex.” Amara held up his hands. “Not with me.”

“Thank God for that. Why does he hurt you?”

“He didn’t. Not until…until Aria…you know…told everyone.”

“When he didn’t have anything to hold over you anymore.”

Amara nodded. “I told him I wasn’t going to do it anymore because he had nothing to blackmail me with now it was all out in the open. I told him to just leave. To get out and leave us alone. He…. He got mad and he…. He grabbed me by the wrists and threw me against the wall. He said I had no idea how precarious my situation was and that if he wanted to he could snap me like a twig, and Aria too. He hit me a couple of times, and it hurt, but not too much. Not too much to hide.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He said if I told anyone he’d hurt Aria.”

“Jesus, Amara. You should have said. We’d have handled it. We’ll get rid of him and make sure he never comes anywhere near you or Aria again. I mean, you’ve got best security in the business.”

For a moment, Amara’s brow furrowed then he chuckled. “I guess so.”

“I can deal with this for you. You don’t ever have to see him again. If you give me the go ahead, you can go to bed and when you get up in the morning, Ben will be nothing more than a bad memory.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“He won’t go easy, Drew. You know that. He’ll hurt us all.”

“He’s not that big a man, Amara. I promise you that. But I do understand that he won’t go quietly, so we’ll wait until tomorrow. I’ll have a word with Alicia first thing and we’ll decide what’s the best way to handle it. I promise there won’t be violence and that you and Aria will be perfectly safe.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely.”

Amara slowly rose and dragged his feet around the table. He looped his arms loose around Drew’s neck and pressed his cheek against Drew’s. “Thank you,” he whispered. He sounded exhausted and Drew’s cheeks burned in shame at his body’s reaction to how good Amara smelled, how sweet it was to just hold him, protect him.

Nope, this is not happening.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to be up early. Why don’t you sleep with Aria? You’ll feel safer there.”

“Not as safe as I would with you, but yeah, I guess so.”

Drew’s heart beat a strange tattoo as he followed Amara up the stairs. He stumbled so many times that in the end, Drew swept him up in his arms and carried him the rest of the way, gently depositing him on the bed next to Aria. He immediately burrowed under the covers. Aria murmured something in his sleep and rolled over to throw an arm around Amara and draw him close, still fast asleep. Amara snuggled in and smiled up at Drew, sleep rapidly overtaking him. “Thank you,” he murmured and Drew smiled then ducked out afraid that if he didn’t he’d stand and watch Amara fall asleep. That would have a bad, bad thing to do.