Author
Author's Note:
The following is a fantasy.
Opinions shared by the characters do not necessarily represent the author's own opinions. For example, I have the bad taste to actually like One Direction.
The band in this story is also about 900% less homoerotic and touchy-feely than real bands are, because I knew readers wouldn't believe it if I tried to make them too much like the real thing.
Chapter 01
Where should we begin this story?
Maybe this is where it started. He was at a bar in London. The lighting was dim but atmospheric, even at four in the afternoon. He had a brief break from working that let him escape from the constant grind and drink to his heart's content and he was settling in to do that. He saw her – first her warm, brown, curling hair, that spiralled around a soft face just a bit too dark to be tanned, and then those big, round eyes. She laughed through plump lips and when she looked up, looked at him, the world stopped turning, the music stopped playing, and all the lights in the bar turned on, bright, for just that moment.
The reality was a bit different. She'd been seated with her friends at a table and he'd been noticing her, from where he sat. She'd been noticing him, too. Her friends left the bar and he moved down to sit next to her, entirely without invitation but hoping that her warm looks were a welcoming advance.
Hi, I'm Wesley,
he said, and hoped she wasn't put off by the roughness of his voice.
She bit her lip. She laughed, like an exhale of nervous breath. I'm Gloria.
He told her he was a travelling musician and tried to sound cool and worldly, even as his palms sweated where he laid them on his jeans. She said she had to go.
But you just got here,
he said.
She smiled, ducked her eyes, and turned away.
You could call me,
she said.
She pushed a napkin in his direction and by the time he realised it had her phone number on it she was walking out of the building. He looked up to watch her walk away. There was something magical about the way she moved, the swing of her hips and the sigh of her shoes across the concrete floor, that had him transfixed. She shuffled away like a melody on the wind.
He smiled and tucked the napkin in the pocket of his trousers. He knew he'd be seeing her again.
When he talked about it later, to his friends, she was vivacious without shyly hiding behind her hair. All tits and winks and sly laughter, instead of folding her hands together and looking down at the table. It was a glamorous movie scene, the start of a sex comedy, instead of reality, and he couldn't stop recounting it.
Why do you keep talking about this girl? You met her once,
Uri asked.
I'm going to marry that girl some day,
Wesley said and felt the butterfly beat against his chest as he pictured it.
Then again, maybe it started like this. Uri in a forum, talking about rock and roll drummers. Uri in a video chat, laughing at Wesley's bad jokes. Uri's hand in his, saying, We can do this.
Wesley had a friend. He loved him, he lost him.
(Oh, he didn't die or anything that dramatic. It's not that kind of story. They're just not friends any more.)
No, this is how it started: with the band.
Chapter 02
2011
Uri looked more delicate in person. That was the first thing Wesley thought when he picked him up from the airport.
Well, 'picked him up' was stretching the truth. Met him at the baggage claim and guided him to the taxi rank, more like.
Wesley didn't think he'd ever been more nervous in his life, standing there waiting, hoping they'd recognise each other from their photos, but when Uri finally turned the corner and saw him, Uri's face lit up and they ran to give each other hugs like in movies. It was pretty cool. He'd expected things to be awkward but they straight away started talking away like they'd known each other for years. Which they had, but liking someone's forum posts was different from liking them in the wild.
My mum's putting on all the stops, mate,
Wesley said, as their taxi drove away from the kerb. Don't think she's ever been so excited to see one of my friends in my life. And my aunt and all that are on hols, so we've the house to ourselves.
That's good. I'm excited, too.
In person Uri turned out to look like an old Hollywood movie star, really cool and good looking, so it was a bit strange to see him tapping his hands on his knees like a total nerd. In pictures he looked slightly above average. In person he looked like he ought to be making people swoon as he went past.
I love your accent. Say coffee,
Wesley said.
Coffee,
Uri said, sounding exactly like the people on Seinfeld, and then both of them cracked up.
The cabbie probably thought they were nuts.
*
Uri was mad polite when he met Wesley's parents, calling them 'ma'am' and 'sir' and everything. They went straight to the table, because Wesley had been warned dinner would be ready as soon as they got home.
His mum was bringing her famous lasagne out, looking really happy to get to serve one of Wesley's friends. Wesley felt he should be embarrassed at what that said about his life, but he was just so pleased that his mum was pleased. She should always look like that. His dad was looking really proud. Wesley was pretty sure his own face was just looking hungry. The food smelled delicious. He couldn't wait to tuck in.
Oh, I– I'm sorry. I should have said something. I can't– I can't eat that, I'm sorry,
Uri said.
Oh, are you a vegetarian, love?
Wesley's mum asked.
No, it's just that I keep sort of kosher and, uh, the meat with the cheese, I'm sorry, I should have given a list. I'm really sorry,
Uri said.
Oh, I see,
she said. She looked at the dish in her oven mitt-clad hands as if it was suddenly poisoned. I should have realised. I should have looked it up before you came. Look, we'll bin it and we'll order something else.
No!
Uri objected. No, you should eat that. I'll get something else for myself. I'm sorry to be such trouble.
Oh, no no no,
she said. You're no trouble at all. What do you say, Ian? Do we put this one in the fridge for another day?
That seems like the thing to do. We can probably order some thing in, can't we Wesley?
Yes, dad, we can definitely do that,
Wesley said. Wesley put his hand on Uri's shoulder, so he would stop panicking. It was a bit funny, really, to see him so out of sorts over such a little thing. It's no big deal, bro. You don't have to melt down just because mum doesn't have a kosher cookbook.
Uri looked so relieved when they found a take away menu for a place that sold kosher food, he looked like he was melting into his chair.
*
They took Uri's duffel bag and went up to the bedroom to chat, straight after.
You can put your clothes in one of the drawers, if you like. Can you believe I used to fit in one of those things?
Wesley said.
Yeah?
Uri said, looking up all shy like that.
Yeah, I was tiny until recently. My mum says I just shot up overnight and then I couldn't fit anything.
Wesley jumped down onto the bed next to Uri, watching him bounce with the mattress. Sorry, there's not a lot of space in here with my cousin's stuff, too. It's a bit cramped.
No, it's okay. It's still bigger than my place.
I can't wait until tomorrow. You and Zepp are a lot alike,
Wesley said. You should like each other.
I hope so,
Uri said.
*
Wesley woke in the middle of the night to a soft sound. He lifted his heavy head out of his sleeping bag as far as it wanted to go and looked around the dark room. Uri seemed to be shivering in his bag and Wesley made to cover him with a blanket off the bed until he realised the shaking kept time with the sounds of tears.
Are you okay there?
he whispered into the dark.
Yeah, it's nothing. It's nothing, don't worry.
You should come up here where it's warmer. I don't mind it if your feet are cold.
Okay.
Wesley unzipped his bag so he could gather Uri close when he made his way onto the bed. Under the mess of sleeping bags and blankets it was nice and warm, especially with the bit of extra body heat.
See, plenty of room on the pillow,
Wesley said, as he wrapped Uri up in the covers.
Uri wiped at his face, and smiled. First time away from his home and his wife – anyone would be overwhelmed. Wesley wasn't going to make a thing of it.
*
When they went out to meet him, Zepp walked up in baggy jeans and a loose shirt, with his headphones haphazardly placed around his neck. Hey, Wes, who's the nerd?
he asked. He smiled wide out of one side of his mouth and scuffed his shoes on the ground.
Zepp, this is Uri, the guy I've been telling you about,
Wesley said. He really hoped they'd get along.
Who's the metal-mouth?
Uri asked.
Zepp cackled. Metal-mouth! I like this guy already.
We should all play together. Zepp, I think you should consider being in our band,
Wesley said.
Your band is actually a real thing?
Zepp asked. He raised one eyebrow so high that Wesley started to worry about what that was doing to his face. You live in different countries. How can you have a band?
We play over the internet,
Uri said. Obviously. I shouldn't have to explain that.
Zepp put his hands up flat to forestall any arguments. Okay, okay, don't get defensive.
*
They all went to Zepp's house, to hang out in the garage. Back then, Zepp was pretty excited about living in a house that had a garage – not that his mum had a car, given her stance as an environmentalist.
Zepp yelled his plans to play in the garage with his friends as they walked through the living room.
Don't torture the neighbours too much,
Zepp's mum said.
I'll torture the neighbours just enough,
Zepp said.
Good boy,
she said.
Uri obviously hadn't brought his drum kit halfway across the world smuggled into his suitcase, but he dragged some old paint tins together with some off-cuts of wood, and sat on a crate. Zepp got his acoustic guitar from where it was hanging between pins on the wall. That left Wesley without an instrument to put his hands on given he couldn't just magic up a piano into the space.
Uri started off tapping out a slow beat. He kept it simple until he figured out the sound of the tins and then put a bit of flourish into it. After that, Zepp stopped watching Uri's hands, and paid attention to his own instead, layering a bit of rhythm over Uri's beat. Sometimes Uri changed what he was doing, and then Zepp would change his sound to catch up, too. Wesley watched them playing off each other and felt good.
Sing something, already,
Uri said. He was grinning at Wesley and Wesley couldn't help grinning back.
Play me something I can sing to,
he said. But he smiled and sang a note over Uri's tinny sound.
As soon as he sang, Uri stopped.
What's wrong?
Wesley asked.
I always forget you can do that. The first time I heard you sing all the hair on my arms stood up. You're so good.
I'm okay,
Wesley said, uncomfortable with the praise.
No, you're– you really have a gift,
Zepp weighed in. I hear you and I think, that guy's going places.
That's why we have to be in a band. So we can all go places together,
Wesley said.
Zepp laughed. Okay.
Right on,
Uri said, and started drumming the bits of wood against the paint tins again, just to give Wesley something to sing to.
Chapter 03
If Uri was willing to save up his pennies and visit Wesley in London, it was only fair for Wesley to return the favour and visit Uri in New York. That, and he'd always wanted to see it.
After a long period of struggling to try to afford it, and struggling to get his act together to get a passport, he finally managed to get on a plane. It was very exciting for him to get to see a city he'd seen so many times in movies and on telly. It was even exciting to get in a real New York taxi driven really fast by a real New York taxi driver.
After he paid the driver with real American green dollars and stepped outside to Uri's real New York building, he met Uri on the footpath and told him all about it.
You're excited by everything. It's not that big a deal,
Uri said.
Say coffee,
Wesley said.
You've heard me say it before. You say coffee,
Uri said.
It was pretty cool.
*
Uri showed him in. I'd give you the tour but this is it, this is everything.
Why do you have two sinks, bro?
Wesley looked around over Uri's head and let his bag drop at his feet.
Why are you asking stupid questions?
As soon as Uri folded him into a hug Wesley started feeling tired from the plane ride. He turned his head into Uri's neck and breathed him in. Already he smelled familiar. It started to feel to Wesley like he was really there, standing in his friend's flat, all the way across the Atlantic. He grabbed Uri around the waist, until it reached the point where standing there hugging his friend started to feel a bit weird.
So he stood back and smiled at Uri instead.
You have to meet Miriam,
Uri said.
And there she was, coming through the door way, Uri's wife – as young as he was and nearly as pretty.
Wesley wasn't entirely sure how he'd pictured Miriam, and yet the girl who stood in front of him was not quite it. She was nice, though. He liked that she had a long sleeve shirt and tights on underneath a floral dress and boots as dark and shiny as Uri's. Kind of like pictures of people from the 90s.
We couldn't make up a bed for you because there aren't any spare, but we've put some blankets on the couch if that's okay,
she said, smiling.
No problems with that at all,
Wesley said.
*
On the last night Uri's in-laws were out of town so they sat up talking half the night.
It was cold but, If you leave the windows open nobody will know we were smoking inside,
Uri said.
Uri's ash tray looked like a battered metal flower with its petals slowly unfolding.
Yeah, that's because I could never get that bit there to seal up properly. I made it in high school. No point buying one when I have this,
Uri explained.
It's pretty cool, bro,
Wesley said.
You'll make his ego balloon up to the size of the room,
Miriam said.
Let me have my ego. There's not much I do well. I have to take compliments where I get them.
It's just an ash tray,
Miriam said.
But it was also the warmth in Uri's eyes and the slight smile on his face.
Sing something for me,
Uri said.
So Wesley launched into We Gotta Get Out of This Place, and Miriam soon joined in. She had a lovely tone to her voice. Uri mumbled the lyrics, too, but quieter so his voice was a soft breeze underneath them.
It was so easy with them. Wesley had never found friendship this easy in his life. He'd never had people he could talk to about everything before this point.
Sure, he had Zepp, but Zepp had an army of friends who didn't really get the token straight guy showing up to all their parties, and Zepp knew so many things that Wesley didn't understand. Zepp had conversational land mines he had to tiptoe around and interests he didn't understand. He had to be on his best behaviour with Zepp.
And he supposed there was Andy, an acquaintance he'd shared a class with, but Andy was a cool guy who was friendly with everyone.
Wesley relaxed into the moment. Talking about music, laughing over food, at a tiny wooden table, in a tiny kitchen. Until the construction noises outside decided they wanted to talk too.
Uri said, It's time for bed.
Wesley made his bed on the couch. The night was not quiet but not loud enough for him to turn off his thoughts. He was so thankful to them for letting him stay there. He hoped it wasn't an imposition. Breathed.
*
He woke next morning to someone staring him in the face. The brother-in-law, maybe?
You're still here?
the guy asked.
*
Uri managed to get up to see him before he left, even though Uri really did like his lie ins. He rubbed at his messy hair and said, I suppose I should say goodbye before you disappear.
Thank you, bro,
Wesley said. This has been really, really cool. I can't wait to tell Dana everything about New York.
Uri's eyes stopped looking so bleary. Right, Dana. Your girlfriend. I almost forgot about her.
That's because she's not here, but she'll love hearing my stories.
Wesley did a thumbs up and hoped he didn't look nervous.
I can't drive you anywhere so you're going to have to get a taxi to the airport. But, uh, goodbye.
And one last friendly hug before he left.
Chapter 04
March 31, 2011.
Uri and his black, shiny jacket taking up most of the screen.
"I have to tell you about Joey. We met online, right? So we're talking on this forum or whatever and he says he'll be in New York and we should hang out. And I said okay thinking he'd just be some normal guy and we'd walk around talking about music. And then we meet outside the building and he looks like everything he's wearing is new and I'm thinking, I can't invite him into my dump. There are rats.
"So he says, let's go to this place I know, and I'm thinking they're not even going to let me in the door because there's holes in my jeans and dirt and old rubber on my shoes. And I say to him that I can't afford it, but then he pulls out a platinum credit card.
"And then he says, 'like, you know, my mum's an actress'. She was in that big show in the 90s, Cool Address, and now she's on this daytime soapie called Ocean Beach or whatever that Miriam's aunt is always watching. And also his dad works in movies somehow.
And just when I'm really spun out, he turns to me and says, get his, he likes that I'm so real. I'm so real. I'm just so much more authentic than anyone he knows.
Uri laughed.
So I told him to buy me a meal that costs more than I earn in a day and said he should join our band. Because a rich guy that wants to blow everyone's ego up, that's what we were missing.
Wesley hadn't felt like their band was missing anything until that point but he felt bad for resenting Joey. He didn't meant to bulldoze his way into what Wesley had been building. He was just enthusiastic and ambitious and well-meaning but oblivious. But Wesley found himself a little annoyed by Joey, anyway.
*
April 13, 2011.
Look, just consider this guy,
Uri said. Wesley could see him shifting about in front of the computer, moving a pile of papers from one side of his body to the other. Occasionally his brother-in-law walked through the background with the baby.
It wasn't super empty of noises where Wesley was, either. In the background he could hear his parents talking to aunt Linda as they made clangy plate noises, and his cousin was bouncing a ball down the hallway.
We don't need another singer. We have me. Do you not like my singing?
Wesley kept wanting to look down at his hands but he forced himself to keep his eyes on the screen so Uri didn't think he was trying to be rude.
What? Why would you ask that? I love your singing voice. It's beautiful. When I hear you sing I feel like I'm in the presence of a real gift to the world. Don't ever doubt that.
Okay.
Wesley wanted to play it cool but he knew he was smiling. Then why would we need this guy?
Joey, his name is Joey,
Uri said, distracted again by whatever was happening in his home beside him. And he has money. He has a lot of money. His parents are millionaires who want to invest in his future success or something.
Well, I'm sold. Tell him he can join the band. I don't even care if he can sing.
*
May 10, 2011.
He says we should all fly out to met him in LA,
Uri said. Should we let him pay for it?
Is he offering?
Wesley asked.
Yeah, I think it's a business expense.
But it's our business, not his. We haven't officially decided to let him in yet.
I blew all my money on going to see you.
Me, too.
But at the time it didn't feel like blowing his money so much as the culmination of a dream.
Uri's sister-in-law stomped into view, and he turned to look at her when she made disappointed huffing noises.
What have I told you about smoking in the house?
she asked Uri.
Uri sat there looking up at her, with smoke curling off the ciggie in his hand. Don't do it?
Then why are you sitting here, inside, smoking?
she asked.
Uri deliberately raised his smoke to his lips, took a drag, and then blew out right in front of her, before shoving it tip down into the dinky little metal ashtray he kept on the table. Are you satisfied?
he asked her.
Not even a little bit,
she said, shook her head, and moved away.
So, we'll let him pay for it,
Uri said, turning back to look at the computer.
Maybe. I'll see what Zepp says.
Right.
*
Uri was coming from a different direction, but Zepp and Wesley also managed to be on different flights. Uri and Wesley found each other first and sat down on their suitcases, near the airport doors. Zepp showed up with his hair bleached to a pale blond and without his glasses.
So you finally got contact lenses,
Uri said.
Zepp nodded. You were probably right when you said I can't be a nerd and a rock star. But I've still got spare glasses in my bag just in case.
He was rubbing at his hair like he wanted everyone to comment on it but was trying not to be obvious about it.
What did your mum say about the hair?
Wesley asked.
She said I looked beautiful and very punk rock and she supports my choices.
Zepp rolled his eyes.
Your mum's right,
Wesley said. It looks cool.
*
Wesley didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the real Joey that stood before him wasn't it. Joey was wearing a band shirt, commemorating a concert tour for a band that broke up before he was even born. He had the kind of tan Wesley didn't realise people could actually get outside of magazines. He was wearing one pair of sunglasses tucked into his shirt, and another pushed up into his hair. Which looked kind of like a mop.
I've been so excited to meet you. Uri makes you sound like the greatest band ever,
Joey said. He sounded kind of like the people on TV, but he talked slowly enough that it was hard to believe he got that excited.
We're not that good. I mean, we're okay. We're not completely terrible,
Wesley said.
We're pretty rough,
Zepp said.
I love the English,
Joey said. You're all so funny.
I don't know about this guy,
Zepp said, so only Wesley could hear it. The look on his face was about as sceptical as Wesley felt.
Um,
Uri said, pushing a hand through his hair. This is Wesley, and that's Zepp.
He pointed each of them out in turn.
I'm so happy to meet you both,
Joey said, then hugged both Wesley and Zepp in quick succession. At that moment Wesley wasn't
