Played like a Guitar - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Athena was experiencing some sort of manic episode that morning, all hyperactive and excited like a six-year-old after devouring fifteen packs of gummy bears. She kept listening to their two albums, singing and dancing along to the funky tunes, pretending to perform on stage. Noticing me internally mocking her, she pulled me against her chest and grabbed my arm playfully to spin me around like a top. Their music was truly special, and I couldn't wait to see the crowd's reaction tonight, especially Jamie's evolution as an artist. The lyrics didn't disappoint yet again, showing his versatile writing skills through love ballads, fun dance bops and slower melodramatic songs.
She was sporting some high waist camo pants and a large printed T-shirt, two hair buns, topped off with a matching necklace, bracelets and summer shades. I, on the other hand, had no intentions of overdressing for the occasion. I went with my usual simple yet effective look, wearing a plain white V-neck T-shirt, an oversized denim jacket and a pair of shorts, crew socks and collar boots. Fortunately, the weather was sunny with no hints of upcoming rain, perfect for a concert in the open. We arrived a bit earlier to avoid an unnecessarily long line, only for the ticket seller to notify us that we had backstage tickets and therefore weren't required to wait in line with the others.
Wait, did he just give us the most expensive tickets for free? Why? For Athena, this meant a more memorable and fun experience whereas for me it meant seeing him up-close and personal again. A few local bands played beforehand, keeping the crowd pleased and entertained as we waited for the main attraction, the Midnight Blues, to arrive. Although they were a bit late, the crowd went crazy when they jumped from the platform below the stage, starting off with their newest singles from the second album. And there he was, Mr. O'Dea himself, looking fresh off the runway with a black turtleneck tucked in his dark trousers and light brown coat, which he took off right before playing his uniquely-crafted guitar.
Jessie took over the stage, moving side to side to keep the entire crowd pleased, grasping dozens of desperate hands dying to get a hold of him. It seemed as though nothing changed after all, it was just Jessie, the girl with the dyed hair and "the other dudes". Did they have an argument over sharing the stage? If so, why didn't they protest against him collectively? It threw me off guard, to the point where I was just standing still, staring blankly at the stage, surrounded by fans jumping and pushing each other to get a better view. Athena noticed my sudden change, asking if anything was wrong and bringing me back to reality. For someone who is supposedly over him, I should not be this concerned.
After a few tracks, though, they announced a performance of their new song live for the first time. Jamie moved in front of the crowd, placing a tall stool in the center, greeted by hundreds of fans while the rest of the band stood patiently on the side. It was a guitar ballad, titled "Dream", whose strings brought a mellow sound to life, and he was playing its intro. Then Jessie joined him for the chorus, his raspy voice blending perfectly with Jamie's lower, softer background vocals. There was this intricate beauty behind the simplicity of song played by an acoustic guitar. It made the atmosphere more intimate, and placed focus on the raw emotions being expressed on stage. The moment was incredible, an insane amount of flashing phones lit up the crowd, mirroring the night sky's stars. Heading towards the backstage while facing us, his gaze crossed mine at last, giving me the very same smirk I received at the gig, to which I replied with a nod of approval, letting him indirectly know he was getting his city tour after all. All the bygone feelings returned, heating my heart beyond the Sun's surface temperature. The rest of the show was equally magnificent, making me appreciate how music can bring such a massive crowd together into one whole. No matter our differences, we were all here today, sharing our love and passion for the band. For an instance, you'd forget about discrimination, injustice and war happening in the world.
After the spectacular evening, I lied to Athena that I wasn't feeling too well and wished to head back home, convincing her to take advantage of the tickets and watch the other artists up close. "God, I hate lying to her..." - I mumbled while sending my location for him to pick me up. A few minutes later, a shiny black coupe stopped in front of me. Its tinted back window opened, revealing O'Dea's freckled face.
"I assume I passed all your requirements, stranger?" – he remarked while opening the door for me, causing my eyes to roll instinctively and grin. The car's interior had matte black finishes and matching leather seats, resembling the back of a limousine. "So, where do we start our late-night adventure?" - he questioned, trying to keep it cool, but I could hear the hidden excitement in his voice. If my memory serves right, his stubble appeared longer than last time but besides that nothing really changed. His aura was still as bright as ever.
"I imagine you must be starving after the show, so allow me to take you to one of my favorite go-to spots in the city." - I suggested. His chauffeur Benjamin (wow), an older grey-haired man in his early sixties, asked for the address with a sophisticated British accent. I was talking to him most of the ride, surprised and curious to see one of my own all the way here (and maybe make Jamie a bit jealous too while we're at it). The restaurant was rather small, but its lively and warm atmosphere compensated for the size, with the interior painted in white and blue, its walls bedazzled with seashells, ropes and impossible bottles containing tiny ships. The most stereotypical place you could find, destined for tourists. We ordered some traditional Greek cuisine, ranging from various cheeses and dried meat, to delicious seafood and fresh salads. He was quite handsome, truth be told, not a drop of sweat on his face even after all that energetic jumping and dancing. In a very good mood too, if I may add, visibly content about their successful performance.
"So, stranger, mind telling me a few things about you before we spend the rest of this gorgeous night together?" - he asked with his distinct accent. Oh my, that's right! We don't know anything about each other! I spent countless nights imagining our conversations that I forgot we were still strangers in real life.
"Stop calling me that!" – I laughed before describing him my life in Manchester, followed by my parent's divorce and the severe bullying I sustained for always asking questions in class and being every teacher's pet. I was the kid who always had troubles fitting in, not being popular, sporty or talented, so I just hung out with the rest, the dump labeled as "the weirdos" I could have somewhat civil conversations with. Tragic cliché origin story aside, Manchester's industrial heritage, nightlife, parks and monuments still made it a city worth living in. I shared my wish to travel the world in the future, discovering hidden paradises and embrace unique cultures, traditions and experience one-of-a-kind yearly events. Thus far, I only visited a few countries during school excursions, including Portugal, France and Holland which left me blown away by how different they were, despite their relatively close distance from one another. It's something I felt necessary for me to feel satisfied and complete once I turn old, wrinkly, and I'm unable to move further from the couch.
I kindly asked for him to take over the conversation as I was starting to feel bad about how dry and monotonous my life sounded in comparison. He and his younger sister Malory were born and raised in Galway with loving and supportive parents in a big house and safe neighborhood. They had everything they could possibly want and more, but most importantly, the siblings looked after each other. The ideal big brother: protecting her against the world's dangers and teaching her everything he knew. She payed him back by promising to keep secrets (outings in the middle of the night and other troublesome behavior) from their parents and bailing him out of trouble. He didn't care about school much but found passion in music, playing his guitar on the rooftop, singing Malory's favorite songs. Then he fully committed himself to the band as he didn't have any other plans for the future. You could tell they were seriously close by the way his face lit up when talking about her. Jealous and envy filled me up, imagining how different and incomparably better my life would have been if I had a sibling, not feeling so alone in that crowded city.
"It has its charms, definitely. I was really excited when my parents announced they were having a second child, but they decided not to reveal the baby's gender until it arrived. Obviously, I was praying for a little brother so we could play soccer together, pretend to be Knights of the Round Table and I could bully him endlessly. After hearing my wish, mum chose to have a lousy daughter instead, just to get on my nerves! Man, I remember being so jealous when she first came home and took all the spotlight away from me. I was supposed to be the star of the show, so I had to come up with a plan and get rid of her, for good. While my parents were away from home, I stole baby Malory from her crib and placed her on the corner of our street next to one of those huge recycling containers. I was having second thoughts about dumping her inside a garbage can, but I figured someone else could make use of her. See, even then I was so thoughtful about the environment!" - he joked, forcing an instant smile on my face. This man really puts on a workout for my cheek muscles.
"Can you stop complimenting yourself for a minute? I wanna hear the rest of the story!" - I listened attentively, highly amused by his ridiculous past.
"Okay, okay, glad I have your attention. So yeah, anyways, once they returned home, mother found a note inside the empty crib, explaining how an illiterate Malory no longer wished to live with us, so she ordered a stork to carry her to another family. I remember writing 'deer mum', like the animal, and so many other foolish mistakes." - he shook his head while swirling the wine glass, as happy as a clam from the cherished memory.
"What happened afterwards?" - I queried, intrigued by his story-telling expertise.
"She was never seen again, and her cool brother lived happily ever after." - he concluded illogically.
"Hey, stop messing around, I'm serious!" - I chuckled, enjoying our night so far.
"Well, not sure how, but they somehow figured out that it was I, alas, who wrote the message all along! They were yelling at me, turning the house upside down but they couldn't find her. I felt guilty so I told them about my little stunt, got slapped in the face pretty hard before they ran for their daughter's life to the corner of the street. Except...Malory wasn't there!" - he revealed dramatically.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"I swear on my life." - he placed his hand on his chest. "My parents started panicking in the streets, shouting for the neighbors to help us find her, but she was nowhere to be found. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, their daughter was gone and I was the one to blame. But just before their hope ran out, grandpa Sully came out from his house right across the street, carrying the little Muppet with him. Apparently, he watched me from his window all along, laughing at how idiotic I was." - he debriefed the mystery.
"My Gosh, Jamie, that's horrible! I know you were a kid, but still...my parents would've thrown me in the trash instead if I pulled a stunt like that." - I imagined my mom burying me in the container.
"Yup, I got into some pretty big trouble after that. My parents never left me alone with her again. They even hired a babysitter and I was strictly prohibited from entering her room. I guess she ended up growing on me eventually. We get along quite well now, my urge to dump her in the trash is gone." We laughed over the ludicrous story.
The divine smell of fried zucchini, tzatziki, grilled octopi, and other traditional meals surrounded the room, and we were ready to dive in. Secretly observing his style, appearance and behavior, you'd think he was some sort of prince charming with perfect manors whereas in fact he was just a little boy trapped inside the body of a twenty-something-year-old, wanting to have fun and live his life to the fullest. However, it was that very energy and spirit he possessed that ultimately made me fall for him. It's funny how I used to envision myself spending time with him, and now he's sitting across from me gulping on some feta cheese.
Having barely survived the appetizers and main courses, we were greeted with desserts on the house, responding with heavy breaths and internal sobbing in return. After a while, we found the courage and energy to stand up from our soft chairs but failed miserably, falling back to our initial comfy positions and laughing out loud at our mutual laziness. We spent the next ten minutes convincing each other to leave, and yet neither of us seemed capable of moving a muscle. Eventually, I got bored of the foolishness so I dragged him outside.
The next destination was a bar within a walking distance, with strong drinks for student-friendly prices, not too far from the one the Midnight Blues performed in last time. It was packed with young adults even if the closing hours were due soon. I ordered myself a Blue Lagoon cocktail and two shots of raki (a traditional aperitif), hoping to lighten up the mood even more. I stopped drinking pure tequila as it reminded me of how stupid and reckless I was that night at the club. To my major disappointment, Jamie ordered a nonalcoholic beer, claiming he refuses to drink alcohol excessively after spending so many nights drunks in high school, except on special occasions. Apparently, this wasn't a special occasion, and somehow that struck a nerve.
Ignoring the silly excuse and indirect blow, we dived into his childhood romances and summer flings. As expected, he had lots of them and quoting his sarcastic statement, "I was definitely the most wanted guy in middle school, high school, the entirety of Galway in fact. Everyone was drooling over me; it was quite difficult being so popular". I wanted to slap his face so bad but couldn't resist laughing to his stupid sense of humor, cracking me up every time.
After describing the short relationship I had before college in less than two minutes, I asked him about Valentina and how they became a couple. The story was blander than anticipated, if not worse than mine: "Oh, we met each other through our parents. My father is working for hers and we just went out on a few dates. She's a nice girl, her family helped us out a lot." - to which I raised my eyebrows, wanting to change topics quickly so as not to fall asleep. The fact that he was no longer single infuriated me, since it placed this excruciating barrier between us that I couldn't exactly force him to pull down.
We were interrupted by some fans in the middle of our conversation, asking for autographs and selfies with Jamie. I took the opportunity to drink what was left of the Lagoon in one gulp, admiring him secretly while he was distracted. He made sure each and every one of them left happy, asking for their opinions about the show. A kind soul, undeniably. Soon after, the bartender gave us yet another shot, revealing that it was sent to one of us by an anonymous admirer. We intuitively scanned the room, as if we were expecting the admirer to hold a flashing neon sign above their head. "Wow, it looks like someone has a little crush on Noah over here." - Jamie inferred, sure of himself.
"Don't look at me! I ain't the one playing in a famous band. It was probably one of your fans, just too shy to come and introduce themselves. Besides, why would anyone send me a drink, with a guy like you sitting next to me?" – I declared, painfully honest.
"Hey, stop underestimating yourself, it doesn't suit you. You're a beautiful, smart, funny, and caring human being. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. For what's worth, you helped me change and step up for myself since our last encounter. I wrote "Dream" when I was younger, one of my most personal songs to date. I confronted Jessie and he let me sing and perform most of it tonight. I was overwhelmed with joy, sharing that song on stage today and I wanted to thank you for encouraging me!" – he pushed the drink towards my hand, looking me fixedly in the eyes with a serious expression, but I was unable to grab it, deeply moved by his heart-melting words. Are my ears clogged or did he just call me beautiful? I savored every drop of the burning liquor at that wonderful realization.
Reaching closing time, the bar steadily emptied itself and we were the only ones left, sharing whatever ludicrous stories came to mind while the employees were cleaning the tables.
"I remember one night, there was this girl I had a huge crush on by the end of middle school, so I decided to write a short song about her. You can image how horrible the lyrics were as I was, what, twelve?" - he chuckled. "Anyways, I left my house in the middle of the night, climbing down the tree in our front yard through Malory's bedroom window - she always had my back, that little one. So I walk all the way to her house with my guitar, hoping to sing my way into her heart - which did work at the beginning. Blown away by my dazzling talents (to which I nodded sarcastically), she opened her window to let me inside, so I started climbing it, expecting a kiss at the top but was instead greeted by her father's fists. He dragged me by the ear's downstairs, kicking me out the front door and threatening to choke me with his bare hands if I were to pull a similar stunt again." - he revealed, and I opened my eyes wide in disbelief. "We hooked up the next day during recess, obviously, so I guess I did more than just that." – he winked, ending the memory in a spectacularly mature fashion. The more I listened to his stupid stories, the more I wondered what was pulling me towards him.
"And yet you're still alive and just as obnoxious as then. But still, it takes a lot of boldness and charisma to pull off such a shenanigan. Ah, if only I was like that, my high school experience wouldn't have been such a nightmare." - I gazed deeply into the empty glass, recalling undesirable memories.
"From what I've gathered so far, you appear to be quite the over-thinker. How come?" - his tone was deeper now that the discussion moved on to a more serious topic. It was another thing I really liked about him, being able to mess around foolishly and light up the atmosphere but also listen attentively when someone had the urge to vent out.
"I've been asking myself the same question. Maybe my mother transferred it to me, since I had to 'grow up' from a very young age and take care of myself. She planned everything out for my future and prepared me for every step of the way, so by the age of twelve, I was doing my own laundry, cooked basic meals and cleaned the house whereas my classmates had no idea how to turn on a vacuum cleaner. With these extra responsibilities, my mind was always organizing a mental schedule I had to follow." - I revealed, and boy did it feel good to be able to rant about her.
"So basically, she sacrificed your childhood for a head start into adulthood? Not sure I support her decision, if you ask me." - he judged her parenting skills ruthlessly.
"It had its perks. My teachers treated me as the responsible one and I became independent much earlier than the rest of my classmates." - I tried defending myself, even though I was against it.
"And how far did that take you? Did your classmates all fail in life because they had a decent childhood?" - he remarked arrogantly, trying to prove his point.
"Okay, I'm messed up, no need to shove it in my face." - I rolled my eyes, mildly annoyed now.
"I didn't say that. Stop twisting my words against me! Look, I'm not attacking you or your mother, all I'm saying is that she didn't have to put so much pressure on you. Kids shouldn't have to worry about bills, chores and adult problems. The whole beauty of childhood is the innocence and obliviousness that accompanies it. If you remove it from them, they will never have the chance to experience it again!" - he made a fair point, and the conversation finally ended.
"So what's the catch? How come you're still single?" - he asked out of nowhere. Oh boy, if only he knew how inaccurate that statement was.
"There is no catch, people don't find me interesting." - I muttered, biting my nails.
"See, I find that hard to believe. I think you're so scared of wasting time on a relationship that might end one day, that you fail to realize you're wasting even more so by waiting for the right one." - he tried solving the mystery, which I found both irritating and attractive.
"I have this sort of gut feeling when it comes to love, so I know what our chances are from the beginning, and therefore waste zero energy on them." - I justified my thoughts.
"That's bullshit, you can't possibly know what it's like to be with someone, or how long it will last purely based on looks! You never know until you try, which is why you need to make that first step."
"Er, I don't judge people based on their looks! It has to do with their aura, their energy...Ah, never mind, let's drop it, we clearly have different views on love so let's just agree to disagree on this, what do you say?" - I pleaded, wishing to put an end to this conversation.
"No! It's killing me that you're not willing to find someone because of some stupid philosophy of yours!" - he wanted to shout it from the top of his lungs, but kept his composure.
"Why does me being single bother you so much in the first place? I'm not getting burned on a stake here, my life is fine." - I replied calmly, testing his limits, although tempted to inform him that by dumping Valentina he could easily solve this problem.
"That's not the issue Noah. Benjamin is seventy and still single, for crying out loud! It maddens me that you're not willing to look at someone, say 'fuck it', and just go for it, no matter how long it lasts!" For a second I thought he would slam the table out of frustration.
"Speak for yourself, it ain't that easy for everyone. I get it, you have this extreme desire for adventure and you take risks but some people prefer living within their comfort zones where they feel safe." - I tried defending my dear fellow introverts hiding in their caves out there.
"You know what? I think you're so caught up in your stupid little bubble, that you forgot what it's like to be on the other side. If I may add, you're also probably blind to others showing slight interest in you, even if it hit you in the face with a baseball bat." - he dared mock me.
"You don't need to be a love expert to realize someone has a crush on you, Jamie. It's not rocket science." - I noted ironically, clueless  about his intentions towards me.
"Aha. And I assume you believe in soulmates too, right?" - he was acting like Sherlock Holmes before cracking the case.
"As a matter of fact, I do. Why?" - I confirmed calmly, getting deeper under his skin.
"Ah, so you plan on waiting a lifetime for the perfect one to magically appear out of thin air and hold you in their arms?" - his tension rising, in complete disbelief.
"That's the idea." - I continued messing around, amused by his mini psycho-analysis.
"Okay, now imagine you're fifty-years-old, wrinkly, out of shape, and you still haven't found the one. What then?" And yet here you are in my twenties, a gift from the heaven's above. The "out of shape" prophecy has already been fulfilled, thank you very much.
"Well, that means I was probably so focused on making money that I completely negated my love life. With all that cash, I'd find someone in no time." - I winked, ruffling his feathers.
"Yeah, someone who can't wait for you to die and steal all your hard-earned coin. Money can't buy love, darling." - he responded with such audacity, but the last word made me twinkle secretly.
"I know smart-ass, just teasing you. I'll never understand people who manipulate others emotionally just to get a piece of their heavy wallets." - I switched to common grounds.
"What if they have a reason behind it? A girl needs to pay her tuition fees, for example. Can it be considered moral then?" - his inner Aristotle questioned. Common grounds are just not an option when it comes to us, apparently.
"Eh, what's moral anyways? Shooting down a serial killer makes you a murderer too. Sure, you're preventing potential casualties in the future but the premise remains the same. In this case, it's manipulation, whether you're using it to pay your education or to fill your closet with designer clothes. Don't get me wrong, I actually admire people who end up in upper class with zero talents and effort. Must be nice."
"I wouldn't exactly refer to them as talentless, per say. They must have something to charm their way up the ladder. A strong personality, unprecedented confidence, ravishing looks and so forth. We all use what we have at our disposals." I was tempted to to add "like your girlfriend did", but restrained myself.
"Are you indirectly hinting at how you became successful, O'Dea? I didn't expect you to be a man of such...promiscuity. Who was it? Jessie, or the label executive?" - my attempt at making him uncomfortable was a complete success as he dropped the conversation immediately.
"Well, would you look at that? It's almost midnight, and I haven't seen one corner of the city. You're one awful guide, you know that right?" - he pointed out. I checked my watch, unaware of how fast time passed in his presence. Although I was too tired and tipsy to continue, my desire to spend more time with him was stronger. We were having a blast and God knows when (or if) I would be able to see him again. A crazy idea went through my mind, something I never did before but always wanted to. I left a tip to the bartender and grabbed Jamie's hands in a rush, catching him off-guard as we started running towards his car, laughing at the randomness along the way.
"You want an adventure? Come, follow me!" He had no clue as to what to expect, but was intrigued, nonetheless. I whispered the location to Benjamin, refusing to ruin the little surprise I brewed up for him. What were those magical words again? Oh, right. Fuck it.