Silence Page 3

  Drinking straight from a bottle of scotch before an important interview might not be wise, but since Mickki said I couldn't bring any blow on the plane this is the best I can do. My nerves have kicked into over drive and rubbing my temples doesn't help the stress headache. Lacey offers me some pain killers; I pop about five or six and wash them down with scotch. Her eyes grow wide.

  “You should only take two, you could OD or something,” she whispers. I had my cock in all her holes last night and she’s still nervous around me. I don't like to go back for sloppy seconds, I'm Eddie Diamond and can have a different bunch of girls every night, but her mouth is looking mighty fine right now.

  “Love, thanks for the concern but a few little pain killers have nothing on the things in my system right now.”

  “Oh.” Is all she has to say.

  “Have you ever joined the Mile High Club?” I ask her and her face flushes all shades of red.

  “Everyone would know,” she says.

  “Your point is? Off you go love and I’ll meet you in there.” The shade of red is still spread across her face and chest, even though she quickly scrambles from her seat and makes her way to the bathroom.

  “Be naked!” I call out before she shuts the door. I take my bottle of scotch and follow behind her after a few minutes. The bathroom in our private jet isn't small by any means, it's actually quite big and more what you’d call an ensuite off a rather large room with a queen size bed, which she is currently lying on naked. I don't care much for talking or kissing, though I do love pussy. I might have lost a little bit of stamina over the last few years which I put down to my age, but Mickki says it's the abuse I put my body through and he’s probably right. I'm lucky for a few reasons though, one being that once the monsters limp he’ll go hard again with the right suction, with age comes experience. I could have an ‘orgasm off’ against all these young bastards and win hands down. I drop to my knees in front of her, pulling her to the edge of the bed and her legs over my shoulders; I make sure she’s spread out in front of me. Fuck, I love pussy, love everything about it. I'm just about to go in for the first lick when Mickki comes barging into the room. Nerdy reporter chick screams and rushes to cover up.

  “What the fuck!” I shout.

  “Eddie, I fall asleep for two minutes and you can't control yourself. Today's not the day to be fucking around with the woman you want to interview you. We need this to run perfectly.”

  “Dude, I was just about to eat though,” I complain.

  “There's sandwiches in the fridge,” he says to me and looks over at Lacey. “Please get dressed, and don't let him convince you to fuck anytime between now and the interview.”

  She nods her head in embarrassment.

  “I don't want a sammich, I want pussy,” I complain as he walks out of the room. “Sorry love, the boss man has spoken. He isn’t usually such a bore, honestly, I swear he loves sex as much as I do.”

  She offers me a small smile and I give her a minute to get herself together. Mickki glares at me as I walk out of the room, I give him the finger and take my seat. The pilot called a five-minute seat belt warning, it seems even he knows I could be busy and need a few minutes. Lacey walks out and looks mortified. Oliver sits next to me and has a list of things he wants me to talk about in the interview. I remind him that it only goes ahead if Sasha agrees, everything seems pretty straight forward.

  As the plane descends, the reality that I have to go to Amelia's grave starts to hit me. I want to get some blow really quickly but decide I really can't do it before I see Sasha, I will make the stop before the interview. I'm actually looking forward to being in my hometown and sleeping in my own bed, it's been four years since I’ve set foot in my house. At least there I can get away from my damn brother, wind down. We have one last show in Brisbane later in the week, but after that we get to take some time off and prepare for our next album.

  When we exit the plane, there’s a massive crowd of fans and reporters, and I don't think Lacey was prepared for the number of people that have turned up. We make it through the crowd without any problems, Marcus our head of security was smart enough to have a few extra guys here. Thank god for Mickki and his love of limos, this one has a fully loaded bar. Right down to the little mini bottles, I open and down at least four, or maybe five, of those suckers, which should help keep the nerves at bay. Mickki’s house is the closest to the airport and Marcus has organised cars for us all to go where we need to go. Drew, Brodie and Benny go off to see their families and will meet up with us tonight at my house for the interview. Oliver and Lacey head off to my house to get everything ready. I'm so nervous about meeting up with Sasha that my hands are shaking. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. If only my conscience wasn't sitting on my damn shoulder telling me to do the right thing, to show her I'm not a fuck up. Who are you kidding, you dickhead? You are a fuck up; always have been, always will be. Why does it feel like the drive to the cemetery is taking forever? I have sweaty hands and my heart feels like it could almost explode. As we pull up, there aren't any other cars, so I must be early or she isn't coming. Shit, I hadn't thought about what would happen if she didn't show up. I make the driver circle the block as I'm not ready yet, I need a few minutes to calm my nerves. It's been five years since I was last here and it was one of the two worst days in my life. It was the day I said goodbye to two of my best friends.

  The nerves are too much and I make the driver pull the car over. Opening the door, I empty the contents of my stomach all over the curb; luckily we’re the only car pulled up beside the cemetery. There is no sign of Sasha yet, so I decide it’s now or never. I still remember where Amelia's grave is, six rows down, six graves to the left. Sasha didn't want anything fancy, no big headstones, just something sweet and simple.

  Amelia Rose Dean

  11/02/2009– 15/04/14

  Your light shines forever bright in our hearts baby girl.

  My security detail gives me space and stand as far back as Marcus, the head of our security, deems safe. On the way to the cemetery I’d stopped at an old book shop where the lady makes origami butterflies. I came across her shop years ago, when I first met Amelia, and she ended up with a collection of different butterflies. The flowers and butterflies I had made to order for Amelia's funeral were beautiful and I know she would have loved them. Today I had her favourites made, a few butterflies and some roses; a white one for innocence, a yellow one for friendship, and a pink one for sweetness. Five dollars is all it cost, I would have willingly spent thousands but my money was always useless to them, they had each other and material belongings meant nothing. I would have bought her the world if that was what she had wanted, but her dying wish was to be on stage with me, to be a rock star, and I'm forever grateful I was able to give her that.

  As I sit here and think about everything I lost that day, how one decision changed my whole life. It's been five years since I last cried and it was right in this very place. I wipe my arm across my face to dry the tears that have decided to resurface. I know I need to pull myself together, so I pull the guitar from its case. It might be the cheapest and oldest piece of shit around, but to me it's more valuable than gold as it’s part of the time I spent with Amelia and Sasha.

  Apparently, Amelia had wanted to buy me a birthday gift and I had no idea. Sasha, being forever stubborn, wouldn't ever take my money, so she got together whatever she could spare. I remember Amelia's little face and how it lit up with excitement when she gave it to me, and to me it's priceless.

  Remembering, I strum at the guitar and find myself singing the song I sang for her at her funeral, a song sung by Danny Gokey – I will not say goodbye……as hard as I try, my emotions get the better of me. Knowing I must sound like a chipmunk singing under water to anyone listening, I can't stop because this sweet angel bought so much happiness into my fucked-up existence. I wish I had the words to tell her how sorry I am for not visiting since her funeral. What bullshit would I come up with if I did? That I’ve bee
n busy with the band touring around the world but avoiding Australia at all costs so I don't have to face my demons, or that I've been too chicken-shit because that’s exactly what it is.

  When I finish the song, I hear a small whimper from behind me and turn to see Sasha, who drops to her knees beside me.

  “You still have the guitar,” she says through her tears.

  “Of course I do, this old thing means more to me than my own life.” I don't try to comfort her as I once would have, it was too long ago. Way too much has happened between us. Sitting in front of me is the one person I knew better than myself, the one person who knew me better than myself. She still looks familiar, but she’s a stranger to me now, and that hurts more than I could have ever imagined. I'm just a guy she used to know. We sit in silence, just staring at each other for a few minutes, the silence saying more than words ever could.

  “I'm sorry,” I say and see her eyes start to water.

  “For what exactly?” her tone a little harsh, yet I can't blame her.

  “For the past, for not being there, for everything that’s happening now, for having to break another promise I made.”

  “So, why do it?” she asks.

  “If I don't, the media get to dictate what they say about you and about her. Call me selfish, but I want them to know what an amazingly beautiful and loving person she was. She was so much more than her illness and you are more than your past. Even if it makes your hatred for me so much deeper than it is, I feel that I have to do it. I came here seeking your blessing, hoping you would agree to let this interview go ahead, and maybe even see if you would be part of it.”

  “I don't know Eddie, this is all so much. I have so many questions.”

  “Come with me for the interview tonight. Let's get Amelia remembered as a courageous and beautiful little girl, then tomorrow you can go back to hating me.”

  “That's the thing. I wanted to hate you, and for a moment I did. All these years, I’ve hated how much I couldn't hate you, because it was you that gave my daughter something to look forward to everyday, you gave her reason to fight. I could see it in her eyes and I wanted to hate you for that, because, well, I'm her mother and I wanted that to be me. So, when you screwed up I had a real reason.”

  “Don't be silly, that girl loved you so much. She wanted to make you happy.” I pull her into my arms and for the first time in five years I feel like everything might just be okay again.

  “If it's alright with you, I would like to be there for the interview,” she whispers.

  We both sit in silence for a few minutes, no words are needed to be exchanged. I finally feel like I can breathe again.

  Walking back into my house after being away for so long is bittersweet. Sasha hasn't said much since we arrived, although it's not the first time she’s been here. On Amelia's good days, we’d come here so she could swim. The house is swarming with people, but I don’t care, I’ve been in a great mood since we left the cemetery. Hell, I didn't expect things to go so well with Sasha. In fact, I didn't expect her to show at all.

  My mood quickly changes when I spot that rat, Avery, talking to Oliver. He may be our manager, but something about him rubs me the wrong way. Sasha goes to see the rest of the guys while I take a shower. It's been hours since I was high and I'm starting to get the sweats bad. After my shower, I rummage around in my bedside drawers and find an old bottle of pills, they’re not the good stuff but they’ll calm my nerves a little. Downstairs, everything for the interview is set up and ready. It looks like Oliver is running through what's going to happen. No offence meant to my boys, but I'll be fucked if anyone's going to be in the room. Not even Mickki.

  “Everyone, get the fuck out.” I yell, the whole room turning to look at me like I'm kidding. “I'm not kidding. There’ll be one camera dude, nerd reporter chick Lacey, Oliver, and Sasha. That's it.”

  “Seriously?” Mickki asks.

  “Afraid so, bro. I need to focus and with a room full of people – like, who the fuck is that?” I say, pointing to a chick with a fucking purple Mohawk.

  “Someone's assistant,” Mickki retorts.

  “Fucking exactly. Take everyone to the bar downstairs, get pissed on me, and watch it live. If we need you, well, you’ll know.”

  “I don't think it's a good idea Mickki?” Avery says, popping his slimy ass out of nowhere.

  “Take him away from me before I beat his ass,” I say. Oliver moves everyone on. Taking the last draw on my cigarette before stubbing it out, I take a deep breath. This is it, time to bare my soul to the whole fucking world. I take a seat on the couch across from Lacey; they want to give the interview a homely feel. This may be my house, but it's not a home. Being on the road and living from a suitcase, that's my home.

  “We’re live in one minute,” the camera guy announces.

  “You're sure about this Eddie?” Sasha asks, placing her hand over mine.

  “I'm sure. Everybody needs to know – but on our terms.”

  Sasha doesn't say anything, just gives a small nod of her head before taking her seat behind the camera man, next to Oliver.

  “Thank you for tuning in to ACE. I'm Lacey Moore, bringing you a special broadcast tonight. We’re lucky enough to be here with Eddie Diamond, lead guitarist for Black Diamond. Thanks for joining us, Eddie.”

  “No worries, glad you came,” I say. Maybe now isn't the right time to crack jokes, because it makes Lacey blush like a silly school girl.

  “Firstly, I’d like to say, welcome back to Australia. I'm sure you're glad to be home.”

  “You would think that,” I say sarcastically, “I’m looking forward to some time off before recording some new songs for our upcoming album.”

  “As everyone would be aware, this morning, Eddie graced the front cover of every newspaper - except ours. That's because we at ACE like to get the truth, and that’s why we’re here tonight. Eddie has agreed to give us the exclusive on what happened to cause his extreme behaviour, and to answer all your questions on who the mystery girl is.”

  My palms have started sweating just thinking about having to talk about Amelia. I never wanted to hide the relationship I had with her and Sasha, I just never wanted people to exploit a child to make a quick buck.

  “Eddie, would you be able to tell us what happened yesterday? What set you off on what people are calling an explosion into self-destruction, caused by booze, drugs and women.”

  “Sure. I won't lie, most of that comes with being a rock star. It's easy to get caught up in the lifestyle, but yesterday was different. It's no secret that I don't like to air my personal life in public, because it's just that - private. Especially my tattoo.”

  “Could we see it…the tattoo?” she asks.

  I take off my shirt and turn my back to the camera. “How about we start with what it represents?” she continues.

  Clearing my throat, I start “The Broken clock represents me – unreliable, even if it was by accident. The crack in the clock represents that at a certain moment of time, events broke me beyond repair. The little girl represents the one person who always saw the best in me, and for her memory. And the stairs are the stairway to heaven, because fuck knows if I’ll be lucky enough to get in and talk to my little angel again.”

  “Wow, I'm speechless. Would you like to share with us about the little girl and who that represents.”

  “All of this is because of a beautiful little girl named Amelia. I met Amelia's mother, Sasha, and I thank God that she is here tonight to support me.” Briefly, the camera pans to Sasha and returns back to me. “I won't go into depth about how we met, but I will say Sasha was my best friend. Someone who didn't give a fuck about my money or fame, and probably still doesn't. I'm sure you all want to know about what kind of relationship we had and it was only friendship. Her daughter, Amelia, was four when I met her six years ago. She was my biggest fan, this beautiful little girl idolised me; I was her hero. I was scared for Sasha because Amelia was sick, really sick, but I didn
't fully understand that. Maybe it was ignorance, I don't know, all I knew was that being around them both made me happy; a happiness I never knew existed. I’d always thought it was only music that made me happy, and yes it does and it's what I was born to do, but being around someone who made me smile a lot was amazing.”

  “She sounds like a beautiful child.”

  “She was the light of my life and she taught me how to love. I’m not talking about being in love, but to love another human being more than your own life. Let's face it, I'm a selfish bastard and that didn't come easy, but she chipped away at my cold exterior."

  Taking a steadying breath, I continue. "The day she died, she took the best part of me with her, the part that held all the good in me. It wasn't fair that someone so small and innocent could be taken from this earth when people like me get to still be here. I prayed for the first time the day the last of the doctors I hired told me the same thing the rest of them had —that there was nothing they could do. I prayed to God that he would take me instead, I would have sold my soul to the devil just to hear her laugh one last time.”

  “I'm sorry, I need a minute,” Lacey says through her tears.

  “I didn't mean to make you cry,” I say, handing her a box of tissues from the table. I walk over to the cabinet and pull out an envelope of photos. I sit back on the couch and hand a photo to Lacey. “This was Amelia the day I met her. She wore her Black Diamond T-shirt and she started singing one of our earlier songs called Relentless, and I remember thinking this tiny kid is so badass.”

  As I go through all the photos, it feels good to share my memories of her, to not keep her a secret anymore.

  “You said earlier that you and Sasha used to be best friends. Does that mean you're not anymore?” Lacey prompts.