Disclaimer: This story is in no way a suggestion of the sexuality of the characters involved. Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling and Warner Brothers. I am in no way connected to the cast of the Harry Potter movies and/or Matchbox 20. Lyrics are copywright and are from Matchbox 20's current album. This story contains a FICTIONAL character from Matchbox 20, and involves a homosexual relationship. If this is in any way illegal where you live, or if you are underage, please do not continue reading.
American English Part II At Least I Found A Friend
Laughing I grabbed a Sprite from the refrigerator in the corner of the canteen. I was having a blast with Tom, and we really were hitting it off as friends. We were pretty similar - same likes and dislikes, same music - he had our album, I had the Harry Potter movies on DVD, and we liked the same food. Hell, we even had the same fashion sense - for example - none!
I was really enjoying myself for the first time in weeks, and drew a pen from my pocket. Asking me what I was doing, I replied - "Just making a note of a few lyrics that just came to me..." I grabbed a napkin and began to scrawl...
'She got out of town, On a railway New York bound, Took all except my name, Another alien on Broadway...'
Tom peered at me as though I was about to explode. "You OK?" he asked. "It's a song I've been working on. It's called 'Bright Lights'." I explained. Then I motioned for him to be quiet.
'Well there's some things in this world you just can't change, Some things you can't see until it's too late...'
I grabbed his hand and ran out of the cafeteria, pulling him along behind me. He shook free, and walking by my side, started to speak. "Hey Olly, you OK? You look like you've seen a ghost!" "Maybe I have," I replied, "but I got song lyrics, and I ain't gonna stop now." We carried on until we reached my dressing room. I threw my sticks in a corner and ran over to the big Yamaha keyboard I keep with me as far as possible. I began to play as I wrote.
'Oh baby, baby, baby, When all your love is gone, Who will save me >From all I'm up against Out in this world...
And maybe, maybe, maybe You'll find someone That's enough to keep you But if the bright lights Don't receive you Then turn yourself around And come on home...'
Stopping I looked over at Tom. He smiled. I smiled. I kept going.
A week later and I had a four firm friends. The shows were going down well, we had hit the UK Top Ten, and I had the beginnings of four new songs for the next album - life was going OK.
We had just managed a whistle-stop tour of Scotland, and over the next six weeks we played sold out concerts across the Isles. Heading Leeds and Reading Festivals, we felt on top of the world, and for the third week running we had a No. 1 album and single. I was desperate for it to last.
Me and Tom stayed in contact, texting or phoning - and I often rang the other guys too. Daniel was pretty cool and Emma always had the dirt on the others, but I missed them - I wanted to see them. Most of all I wanted to see Tom. I didn't know why.
Sat on a bench in Hyde Park one morning, I thought about how quickly the last few weeks had gone. It was strange, but I had been enjoying it so much, I had barely noticed the time go past. I pulled out my notepad, and jotted down a few more lyrics of a song I had been working on...
'Yes I am, I hope you think you read me Hope I start talking crazy Before you understand me Are we through? You think that I'm beneath you But you like the things that I do Wrap them up and take them with you...'
It's wierd, I thought, but Tom seems to be my muse. Strange.
'I'm alright, Hope I can sleep for one night, If not to cool my insides Baby, to calm my backside Rain on me, I got a weakness in me I think that weakness feeds me I don't think you think you need me...'
It came in droves - and I liked it!
'Sunshine - you're the best time I ever, ever had But I think I made you feel bad A black fly On your neck tie Time after time...'
Well, he'd help me see a lot about my past relationships. I guess this was my feelings wanting out.
'But when the sun Starts sinking On your beautiful soul Makes you cry Cry-baby Makes you feel so cold Don't you know? It's alright, Sometimes, You just got to show how you feel 'Cause thats you baby! Yeah well you're so real...'
It was the last night of the tour. London's Royal Albert Hall. Packed and waiting. I was exploding with anticipation and absolute and overwhelming horror at the fact that we had made it this far. A sold out show in a massive and prolific hall in a different country. My god, that was good for the ego. Not only that, but Tom and the others were coming. It was going to be one hell of a night.
The show started. I sat at my drum kit and tried to ignore the thousands of screaming people. The noise was immense as the thunderous guitar chords began, and we began to play. Racing through songs as though they were made of silken velvet we played for the gods - no-one could even touch us. Rockers, punks, goths, alternatives, trendies, townies, preppies - all screaming in unison to the sound of our band. OUR band!
'And now you crossed that line You can't come back Tell me how does it feel now? It's too late Too much to forget about You can't stop now Oh how does it feel now? I'm only asking because I want to know How d'you want to feel?'
The foundations shook to the sounds of feet stomping, guitars screaming and drums blasting. Storming riffs, thumping bass, fast chords and twisted lyrics blasted across London, shattering the eardrums of hundreds of people across the city. And I loved it!
Only halfway through did I notice Tom, stomping with the others, immersed in music and loving it. I watched for a while before turning my attention back to my drums and the music. I was sweating, and stinking, loving how much fun I was having. My yellow t-shirt was drenched in the water I kept throwing over my head, and it was plastered to my sculpted body underneath.
With final crashing chords we closed the show, to thousands of screams and shouts from the audience. We had exhausted our encore list and they still wanted more. I turned to Rob, the lead singer, and said, "Hey, I got a song we can use - you know..."
I jumped from the drums and threw the sticks to Rob, shouting at him to do it for me. He sat down bewildered, and I ran down to the keyboard at the front of the stage. Grabbing the mike I shouted out to the audience and began to play the opening chords...
'She got out of town, On a railway New York bound, Took all except my name, Another alien on Broadway...'
The guitars came in, slowly. As the ballad hit the end of the first chorus, I looked down at Tom. He stared back, and the drums kicked in.
'Oh baby, baby, baby, When all your love is gone, Who will save me >From all I'm up against Out in this world...
And maybe, maybe, maybe You'll find someone That's enough to keep you But if the bright lights Don't receive you Then turn yourself around And come on home...'
It was over as soon as it had begun. The audience gradually left, still singing the songs and shouting and cheering. Making my way to my dressing room, I grabbed a towel and mopped the sweat from my brow. My t-shirt looked awful as I glanced in the mirror. I carried on walking into my room and headed for the shower.
In just a towel I came back into my room, and heard a knock at the door. I peered through the little peep-hole. It was Tom and the others. I shouted for them to wait and pulled on some clothes. Opening the door, Tom shot me a smile, and a nice one, and the others gave me a big well done hug. "Hey!" I protested, "I just had a shower! You'll make me stink!" "Oh hilarious Olly!" joked Emma, and pushed past me, grabbing a seat next to the window. I laughed and offered the mini-bar to anyone hungry - they raced over and emptied it almost immediately. Daniel went to use the bathroom and I sat down next to Tom, asking him what he thought. "It was great," he said, "I wish I could do that!" "I'm sure you could Tom, if you had the right band." "No way, I can't sing!" "You don't need to sing - look at me - I hardly ever sing!" "Yeah, but you can play drums." "No I can't. No-one can. I just smack big dustbins in time to a bunch of guys messing round with guitars." "Yeah but it works, doesn't it?!" "Apparently - you saw the hall tonight!" I joked. "Yeah I guess," he said. He turned away guiltily. "Hey, what's up?" I asked. "Nothing," he said, and moved off to look at the drum kit in the corner. I got up and went and sat next to Emma by the window. "Have I said something to him?" I asked her. "No, probably not. He's been wierd lately anyway." "What do you mean?" I questioned. "Well, he was really excited about coming to see the concert tonight. But he was looking forward to seeing you too. He missed you loads while you were on tour." "Yeah, I guess I missed him too. He's a good friend." "That's the problem," said Emma.
I sat bewildered.
To be continued...
Hope you're still enjoying the story.
Sorry that there isn't any sex yet, but there will be!
I apologise about the excessive use of lyrics as well! They mean quite alot to me, and they kinda fitted the story too. If you haven't heard Matchbox 20, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! 'Bright Lights', 'Feel' and 'You're So Real' from the album 'More Than You Think You Are' released recently are mentioned here - my three favourite songs in the world!
Comments and suggestions are always welcome - just don't be mean! It would be nice to hear from at least one person - just to know someone has read it!
Contact me at: american_english_the_story@hotmail.com