The Hidden Ones: The Spotlight - 28. Breakthrough!

-------------Teddy------------

It’s funny, when people hear I date a musician they come up with a false image in their heads. And when I tell them he’s plays hard rock their image gets warped. They assume he’s some type of Satanist, that he’s sold his soul to become a star. But what they don’t know is the hard work he’s put in; the countless hours of writing and practicing. They don’t expect a person like me to be chasing a person like him. Or that maybe, just maybe, I’d give up my soul to be with him.

“Ryder,” I hummed, cuddling him like I had all night. “It’s time to wake up.” He muttered something before breaking away from me and pulling all the sheets onto his side. “Five more minutes,” I laughed, connecting the dots on his hidden words. “But you’re getting up early today, I swear you are.” He let out a long groan as I crawled around him and quietly made my way out of his room.

“Good morning Teddy,” Mrs. Sullivan smiled as I walked into the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m alright thank you.” I smiled back, taking a seat across from her.

She took a second, quietly observing me. “You think I’m crazy for letting you spend the night.”

“No I don’t.” I quickly rejected, but she knew I was lying.

“You do. After all, what type of grandmother let’s their grandson’s boyfriend spend the night?” She laughed, speaking my thoughts aloud. “But you’re good for him. For the first time in a long time he’s smiling and laughing, and that’s because of you.” Her smile grew a little wider as her eyes locked with mine. “I’ll let you stay a million nights if it means that smile will stay.”

“He does have a cute smile.” I blushed.

“You really do love him, don’t you?” She asked, still trying to wrap her head around our relationship.

“More than I should for just a little over two months.” I bashfully admitted.

She let out another laugh and placed her hand on mine. “It feels like you’ve known him for so much longer, doesn’t it?” I nodded my head at her question causing her to gently squeeze my hand. “It’s because you share a soul. When you were both born it was split in two, and now fate is bringing it back together.”

“Mrs. Sullivan,” I exhaled realizing her crazy side was starting to show.

“Try to dismiss me all you want, but you know I’m right!” She exclaimed with a smile. “No matter what happens you two will always share a bond.” I nodded my head, but once more she could tell I wasn’t buying it. “I’m serious,” She insisted, smile fading. “Promise me that no matter what, you’ll never, never, never give up on him.”

“I won’t, I swear.” I promised, clutching her hand.

“Well I know we usually play pure pop music,” The radio interrupted, filling the moment of silence. “and I guess in a way this is a pop song, but it’s like nothing you’ve ever heard before. It’s a cover by a local rock band, they call themselves Messiah. I know, freaky,” the voice laughed instantly lighting up Mrs. Sullivan’s eyes “but you’ve got to give this cover a chance, it’s-I can’t stop listening to it. This one’s Pill in Ibiza”

A guitar with subtle pop elements layered over it filled the air as the song began to blare out of the small box. “Ryder!” I yelped, jumping up and running back into his room. “Get up! Get up! They’re playing one of your songs on the radio!”

“I’ve been on the radio like a hundred times.” He groaned, turning his back to me.

“Okay, but this isn’t really one of your songs!” I shouted, starting to shake him. “This is your cover.”

“My cover?” He groggily asked, finally turning back towards me.

“Pill in Ibiza!” I excitedly yelped, as my words finally connected with him.

“Oh shit,” He let out, jumping up from his bed and running into the kitchen. “What station is this?” He excitedly asked as his grandma turned up the radio.

“Z100.” His grandma answered as he quickly moved in and wrapped himself around her. “Not that I’m not excited, but haven’t you been on the radio before?”

“I have,“ he forced out as he let go of her and embraced me. “but that’s been on small rock stations that no one really listens to. It’ll get me on a tour, but this, getting on the popular stations, it-it-it really gets me out there.”

“It forces people who would never normally listen to his music to take a look at it. “I elaborated, trying my hardest to help her understand. “Like commercials during the Superbowl.”

“Like commercials during the Superbowl.” He repeated, finally letting me go and pulling out his phone. “I gotta tell the guys!” he eagerly squealed putting the phone to his face. “We’re on Z100!” he shouted, not even giving the person on the other end a chance to speak “Never mind why am I listening to a pop station. We’ve made it into the main stream and we don’t even have an album yet!” The smile fell from his face as he realized what he had just said. “We don’t even have an album yet!” He exhaled the happy tone turning serious. “We have to get to the studio, like, right now!” he commanded, as the voice on the other and began to protest. “I don’t care if we were just in the studio yesterday, we’re having a recording session today!”

I shook my head, walked up and ripped the phone from his hands. “Hey Brandon, we’ll be there around noon.”

“Teddy!” Ryder yelped, trying to interrupt me. “That’s two hours from now. I need to get there like right now.”

“See you at noon.” I repeated, staring down Ryder and hanging up the phone. “Sit down and eat breakfast with me and your grandmother.”

“There’s no time for,”

“There is always time for family Ryder.” Mrs. Sullivan interrupted, joining in on the stare down.

“Fine.” He muttered, falling into the seat closest to him. He reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out his small black notebook.

“Nope!” I exclaimed, pulling it from him and shoving it in my pocket “Why do you even have this in your pajamas? You’re going to sit here and have a conversation with us.”

“I always have it on me.” He emphasized, starting to get frustrated with me. “I’ve had writer’s block for a day now! I need to work through it or this album will never get done!”

“Stop being a drama queen.” I exhaled, refusing to give in. “Maybe you’ve just overexerted yourself and need a morning off.”

“Theodore.” He let out, trying any which way to convince me.

I faked disgust and shook my head. “Don’t call me that.”

“Theo.” He tried again, but got the same look. “Ted?”

“Ryder. I will not give you this notebook until eleven thirty, so stop whining and relax.” I ordered, staring him down. “And call me anything aside from Teddy again and you’ll be spending the rest of the day by yourself.”

“Fine.” He muttered as his eyes fell to the floor. “Does that mean you’re coming to the studio?”

“Am I allowed to come to the studio?” I asked, beginning to nudge his foot with mine.

A small blush formed on his face as he heard my words. “Why wouldn’t you be?” He mumbled, trying to act like it was nothing.

“Because the guys can get a little weird, but if you say I can,”

“You can.” He nodded, finally looking back up.

Mrs. Sullivan let out a laugh before standing up and ruffling her grandson’s hair. “You boys want some French toast?”

“Yes.” Ryder quickly nodded, not having to be asked twice. “You haven’t made me French toast in years.”

“You haven’t been up before eleven in years!” She teased, starting to get her kitchen together.

“You have been?” He asked, giving it right back to her.

“I’m always up Ry.” She sighed, beginning to mix the batter.

He turned to me and rolled his eyes. “Why? It’s not like you have anywhere to be.” He grumbled. I could tell by the look in his eyes he was worried about her, but was desperately trying to mask it.

“Because you could be up at any moment and need me.” She answered without missing a beat.

“Do you realize how crazy that sounds?” He asked, trying his hardest to play it off as annoyed. “You sound senile. I don’t need someone to,”

“Ryder,” I clicked, interrupting him. “Your face is as red as a tomato; the least you could do is be honest.”

“I’m not embarrassed, I’m annoyed!” He insisted, but I could tell his grandma was seeing right through it.

“Remember when you warned me about being fake?” I began, laughing at the chance to push his buttons.

“Fine!” he yelped, turning towards his grandmother. “Grandma please please sleep at night. Get a full eight hours, just please sleep. And for the love of god stop babying me. You don’t have the energy to waste on all those little surprises anymore. I’m happy and healthy.”

“You don’t worry about my energy,” She reprimanded, turning around and placing her hand on his head. “I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”

“Promise?” he grumbled. For all the times I’ve seen Ryder depressed, this might be the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen him. Just the idea of losing his grandma is too much for him to bare.

“Promise” She repeated, ruffling his hair before returning to the stove. “I’ll be around to see you play one of those big concerts in New York, to see you two get married, to see you bringing home childr…”

“Grandma!” Ryder cut off, as his embarrassment grew even more.

She laughed to herself, but refused to turn around. “You two already know you’re going to get married. I bet you pop the question after Teddy graduates highschool Ry.”

“I-I, I wouldn’t do that!” He stuttered, desperately trying to recover. “I love Teddy, but that’s so young! And so soon! We’d only be dating for like a year by then, and, and, and,”

“Teddy would say yes.” Mrs. Sullivan predicted, finally looking back over at me. “Isn’t that right?”

I shrugged as the red from Ryder’s face grew into mine. “I wouldn’t say no.”

“Teddy!” Ryder let out in surprise. “We won’t even be able to drink yet, and you’d want to get married? Don’t you want to at least wait until you’re out of college?”

“Do you have to be able to drink before you get married?” I teased, easing into the conversation. “Besides with medical school I’m going to be in college until like twenty-seven anyway. If I love you on graduation day as much as I do now, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“I can hear the bells already.” Mrs. Sullivan taunted, starting to plate the French toast.

“That’s because you refuse to take medication.” Ryder spit, still thinking over the conversation. “We wouldn’t even be able to live together yet.”

“Why not?” I asked, getting entangled in the fairy tale. “You’re going to be on the road anyway. Plus I could totally commute to NYU if I get in. I’ll spend the time between semesters wherever you are.”

“You’re not going to want to move in here, and I can’t leave my grandma alone,”

“What? Why is,”

“Just, Shhh.” Ryder hushed, analyzing the idea carefully. “Or else I’ll put you in a home or something.”

“I would never let him put you in a home.” I winked to Mrs. Sullivan as she put plates of food in front of us. “And I’m totally okay with moving in here. It’d be kind of nice. Close enough to still see my parents and brother a lot, but far enough to not actually have to be with them.”

“Brother?” Ryder repeated. “Can they even tell by now? Besides do you really want to be that weird older brother he never gets to know?”

“They can’t, but your grandmother can.” I raised my eyebrows, waiting for her to jump into the conversation. “And he’ll get to know me. I’d be like a ten minute drive away.”

“They should name him Jordan. I’ve always liked that name.” Mrs. Sullivan smiled, rejoining us at the table.

“Ew.” Ryder vetoed, staring to cut into his food. “I’m glad you didn’t get to name me.”

“Alright wise guy.” I smiled. “What would you name him.”

“Oliver.” Ryder answered faster than I expected. “It’s the name of a really good singer, and it means peace. Just fits your dad’s son.”

“And Theodore doesn’t?” I poked, seeing what reaction I could draw. “It means God’s gift you know?”

“No it doesn’t.” Ryder laughed, quickly looking up at me. “There’s no way,”

“I swear on my own life.” I giggled. “I’m literally god’s gift.”

“Ain’t that some shit.” Ryder shook his head, gently pushing his food around.

As our eyes met a small smile began on his face but was quickly forced away. “What’s Ryder mean?”

“Knight.” Mrs. Sullivan answered as her grandson shrugged his shoulders.

“Brave and strong, I think it fits.” I spoke, causing Ryder to blush once more.

“Does not.” He exhaled, returning his eyes to the table.

“Sure it does.” I shrugged. “Looks like I got my knight in shining armor.”

He bashfully shook his head. “I’m not a knight, and even if I was I wouldn’t have shining armor.”

“That’s true.” I nodded. “You’ve been fighting your whole life. Your armor is battle tested, it means you’re strong.”

“This is why I don’t wake up before noon.” Ryder grumbled, finished with all the attention he was receiving.

It felt like Mrs. Sullivan hugged me even tighter than usual as we left for the studio. It’s amazing how open she is to all of this. How she’s already pushing for her grandson to propose to me. How she already thinks of me as part of the family.

“Uhhh.” Tommy let out as we entered the cramped studio. “What’s he doing here?”

“He can come to whatever recording sessions he wants to.” Ryder spoke up, leading me to the old couch. “Besides I’ve had crazy writer’s block, and it helps having him around.”

“As long as we can get through what we need to.” Zack sighed, handing Ryder sheets of empty music.

Ryder pulled over a podium and immediately went to work writings parts of music that was going on in his head. Every now and again he would stand up and grab an instrument to help him visualize what comes next, but I swear he did most of it freehand. It’s like he can hear it all without even thinking about it. Like he just knows what it will all sound like. “Here.” He instructed, handing over two sheets of music. “I really need you to play clean on this solo, so you’re going to have to practice it a few times.”

“What the fuck man?” Zack let out. “I don’t need practice. You just played it fine.”

“I don’t have time to play all nice with you right now.” Ryder dismissed, starting to work on another part of the song. “Go!” he yelped as Zack kept his stare at him. “Fine.” Ryder grumbled picking up the guitar and playing the part almost perfectly. “Play it better than I just did or I’ll go record it myself.”

“Alright, congratulations, you won the pissing contest.” Zack grumbled, taking the guitar into the main recording chamber and rehearsing the part.

Brandon raised his eyes brows at me before quickly going back to playing around with his bass. I hate to admit it, but he’s right. Ryder’s not the same when he’s working on music. It’s like he can just tune the world out and focus. Like for once his mind is actually clear of doubt. That mind of his is a gift and a curse. It can analyze so much at once, put together sounds without even needing to hear them and write lyrics deeper than anyone else. It’s tortured him for so long, but it looks like he’s finally in charge of it. Like he’s finally gained control.

The next hour or two seemed to follow the same pattern. One of the guys would question what Ryder had wrote, or how he had wrote it, yet in the end they always left it be. They understood their places in the band, and knew just how talented Ryder was.

“Fuck!” Ryder yelped, throwing his pen across the room and crumpling up three or four sheets of music. “That sucks! That sucks so much! It’s so generic sounding!” He complained, throwing them across the room. “God! What kind of pop bullshit did I just waste the last thirty minutes writing?” He asked, shaking his head and pulling out another pen. The second he finished the first sheet of paper he kicked the podium over and grabbed his head. “Gah! I used to write a million songs a day, and now I can’t even write two!”

“Why don’t you use one of the ones you’ve already written?” I asked, seeing the fire rise in his eyes.

“They don’t fit.” He dismissed. “Maybe they will in the future, but they don’t work in this album. This album! This album! It doesn’t even have a name yet!”

“Stop freaking out man.” Brandon spoke up, starting to get agitated. “You’re going to get the room all crazy.”

“Don’t tell me not to freak out! That’s only going to make me freak out more!” Ryder yelped, growing more and more upset.

“Just breathe.” I instructed, placing my hand on his back. “It’ll come to you, just breathe.”

“Didn’t you already have a concept for the album?” Tommy asked, looking up from his phone.

“It was garbage.” Ryder shook his head. “I kept the style of music, but the name and all,”

“Well what was it?” I asked, realizing they didn’t know when to push Ryder.

“Never mind what it was, it was garbage so I,”

“What was it Ryder?” I pressured, forcing my eyes on his.

“Well you guys know how Slipknot labels their albums by volume?” Ryder caved, finally opening up his idea to the room. “Well I thought we could start out with that, and I don’t know, it’s stupid, but I always had this vision of what it would be.”

“And?” Brandon asked, trying to get Ryder to keep sharing.

“Forget it.” He shook his head. “I’m not the only one in the band. It doesn’t,”

“How many times do we have to tell you that you’re the center of the band?” Joe groaned, throwing a pen at Ryder. “We’ve all already taken the backseat. What’s the album vision?”

“Volume One: A Broken Home.” Ryder confessed as a blush entered his face. “And the cover would be the back of me as I face my house.”

“Needs work.” Tommy swayed his head. “Something about it isn’t complete.”

“Because it’s not complete you moron.” Brandon spoke up. “It’s a building block. He wants our albums to tell his story. This is just where his life began.”

Ryder sheepishly nodded his head as Brandon hit on the hidden answer. “Woh. That’s meta as fuck.” Tommy exhaled, thinking over the concept. “We have to do it.”

“I’m trying.” Ryder admitted. “But to do it I have to like go back in my head, and I just can’t today. I’m too, too,”

“Happy?” I realized, finishing the sentence for him.

“How shitty is that?” Ryder exhaled. “I’m finally happy and it’s getting in the way.”

“Sorry Teddy.” Brandon shrugged. “I think that means you’ve gotta go for a little,”

“No.” Ryder shut down. “It’s not Teddy. Well it’s kind of him, but it’s also this band, and my grandma and all the chances we keep getting. I just need to forget about it all and think.”

“Well shit I can help you with that.” Brandon laughed, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a large mason jar. “What do you guys say? Let’s light it up.”

I let out a soft sigh as I watched Ryder contemplate the idea. “Let’s do it.” He nodded giving into the idea.

“Wait.” I let out trying to force eye contact. “I thought you said you didn’t smoke?”

“I didn’t.” Ryder nervously let out. “Then warped tour happened, I don’t know, things change.”

“Guess you don’t know everything about your boyfriend.” Brandon smugly bit under his breath, drawing a harsh stare from Ryder. “Sorry.” Brandon exhaled. “You can smoke with us if you want.”

I shrugged and looked to Ryder for guidance. “I like it.” Ryder shrugged. “It’s calming, and it’s about to legal all over, so why not? I mean it’s not like we don’t drink?”

“Fine.” I nervously agreed, watching Brandon take a green chunk and placing it in a small metal circle. “Tommy is your bong in your car?”

“Nah man, that was just until my mom stopped going through my shit.” He shamefully admitted. “Now it’s back home in my closet.”

“Pussy.” Brandon laughed, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small glass pipe.

“Wait I thought you always smoked joints?” Ryder spoke up, taking a long look at the pipe in Brandon’s hand.

“Ahh we got him used to the nice life.” Zack laughed as a small circle came together. “Js waste too much weed, and they’re a pain in the ass to roll.”

“Only because you suck at it.” Brandon teased, beginning to pack the pipe. “This is a bowl.” Brandon instructed. “You light the weed with your finger over this side hole, then when it’s lit let go of the fire, pull then take your finger off the hole and inhale the rest. Got it?” He asked, showing us a quick example. “Its mad easy.”

He handed it over to me and I reluctantly did as he instructed. “See.” He encouraged. “Perfect. No Ryder it’s still cherried so you can just,” as I exhaled the smoke and handed the bowl to Ryder I couldn’t stop coughing. The heat from the smoke seemed to burn my throat as cough after cough flowed out. “Alright.” Brandon swayed his head watching me struggle. “Maybe not exactly perfect, you might’ve held the lighter to it for a little too long, but you’ll be fine.” He nodded as the coughing finally stopped.

The next few rounds seemed to get easier than surprisingly hard as we finished up. Every now and again me and Ryder would enter a coughing fit, but it seemed like we were the only two around effected by it. I guess everyone else had been smoking for so long the smoke doesn’t even affect them anymore.

At first I really didn’t’ feel much. Maybe a little light headed or woozy, but nothing too special. Until finally, like a huge wave the feeling just hit me. At first it was kind of nice, and calming, but as Ryder left my side to go work I could feel my brain begin to tense up. It felt like all the muscles in my head were constricting. As if my mind was closing in on itself.

“Why does my head hurt?” I finally spoke up, not even sure if I had said it out loud or not.

“You’re paranoid.” Tommy shrugged. “Just stop being a goody two shoes and relax.”

“Dude.” Brandon groaned at Tommy, letting the guilt from his earlier comments influence him. “But yeah just relax, and let it carry you away. I mean, just look at your boyfriend. He’s been a freaking machine since we smoked!”

I looked over and saw Ryder writing music sheet after music sheet. I have no idea if they’re usable or not, but he’s tapped into something in that head of his. I just pray that smoking doesn’t become a thing for him. He’s on all those pills already. He doesn’t need pot. Does he?