Passion, Proof, Power

Quick A/N: Sammi's manager name is "ieva" with a capital 'i', not "Leva". I (capital i) and l (lowercase L) look very similar from afar with the Arial font.

 

Passion Proof Power

Chapter 3







No alarm clock. No phone calls. No loud neighbors. It's my bladder that woke me up around ten the next morning. Damn bodily functions. Had to wait for that damn morning wood to go away too. There are times where I'll just lay back down and jerk off... but not today. I decided it was about time for me to do laundry, wash dishes and go for groceries.



Laundry's not hard when most of your clothes are either black or dark. I threw everything in the washing machine and stayed naked while I washed the dishes. I don't know anyone crazy enough to knock on my door this "early" in the morning. I was quite sure my pajama pants were still in my travel case anyways; so far, I haven't needed them.



No, I don't mind doing all those chores on my own. Some stars hire maids to take care of that daily, "boring" crap... but I found they get my mind off shit. It's mechanical. No thinking involved. Take a plate, run a cloth over it, put it aside, next. Take a pile of clothes and shove it in a machine, watch it spin around, and then dump it all into another.



The irony is that once I got done with the dishes, I realized I hadn't eaten anything, thus I had to cook. Well, as much cooking as cereal requires. The washing machine's cycle ended during my oh-so-filling breakfast. By the time I picked everything up, put it in the dryer and came back to the dining room, my cereal was soaked already. The morning looks so, so promising...



I spent the next hour trying to decipher French television. A dictionary wouldn't hurt. I saw a bookstore nearby, I should drop by and see if they have anything easy for me to learn French with, and perhaps some English books. It's very unlikely that I'll find anything in Finnish.



Under the rock star, there's a bookworm. Betcha no one saw that coming. Easier to fit a book in a backpack than another man.



Even with the coffee, I dozed off on the couch. The kids' show was too boring... because I couldn't understand anything. We're talking basic French a three-year-old probably understands.



Or maybe it was because it's a show aimed at toddlers and I'm a thirty-year-old man.



Pathetic feeling successfully engaged.



So I was quite happy when the dryer dinged. Free from that drudgery, I got up and folded everything. I put it all away in my bedroom, except my favorite pants, t-shirt and hoodie, dressed up, and went out for groceries.



~



I wonder if there's any Finnish shop in this place. I miss home products. I like yogurt, it's just fine, but I miss viili. It's just not really the same. The local stuff is good though. Like that poutine thing? Seriously, who'd have thought French fries, gravy and squeaky curd cheese would be so damn good mixed together?



Spare me the obvious, I know people here think it's awesome. And it is awesome. But for me, it's mind-blowing. "So what did you have for lunch?" "Oh, fries, gravy and cheese. Together. And guess what? It was delicious."



Of course, my phone rang. Ieva. Is this where I was supposed to remember I had a meeting that same afternoon, with our producer? While I'm in a mile-long line with a ton of food, some of it that would end up defrosted before I made it to the cash register?



I am so fucked. And yet, I picked it up. I have no idea why I keep doing this. Somewhere in the back of my mind, there's this voice that says 'if you don't pick up, she'll come after you with a machete and cut your balls off.' Maybe it's that thing they call 'reason', or 'common sense'... and perhaps I have to shut it up.



"I'm at the grocery store. Give me, I don't know..." I looked past the guy in front of me. "An hour?" I didn't even let her talk.



She sighed. "You forgot the meeting's only at three right? It's one. This proves I do need to remind you."



I sneered. Bitch.



"I'd have noticed when I looked at the time and address." I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "So no, you didn't need to remind me."



I'm not crazy enough to admit she's right. Well, not to her face.



My eyes drifted to the guy in front of me. Nice butt. He definitely noticed my stare, because he turned his head around, eyes narrowed. He frowned, but kept silent. I looked up to him and gave him an obviously fake innocent look. I shifted my weight for added effect.



"Sammi?"



Oh yeah, the phone. "Sorry, distracted. There's a nice ass in front of me." Speaking multiple languages is great.... and even if he did understand Finnish, by some miracle, it wouldn't have mattered to me. "You were saying?"



"Get your mind out of the gutter and listen, please..." She paused. "Sammi, please, be on time. Ryan Stevens is probably one of the best guys to work with right now. It didn't take a whole lot of convincing for him to work with us. He clearly believes in Sudenkyösky, but he's a busy guy."



She really thinks I would screw this up? My chance to work with the man who produced some of my favorite albums ever – you know, those ones that never, ever leave your music player of choice? The Ryan Stevens of Trial By Archon and Predator Kill fame? For fuck's sake, Ieva...



The line moved. I pushed my cart further up. Oh joy. Another hour indeed and I should be out of here.



"I know. Trust me, I won't be late. I... I just had a horrible night." I wasn't going to tell her I got laid by my downstairs neighbor, whom I had met less than ten minutes before said fuck. Admittedly, the rest of the night was horrible. "I won't fuck it up, I promise."



Sometimes I wonder if she knows how much this means to me. That we managed to score Ryan Stevens as our producer is amazing. No way I was going to blow this chance.



"Be here at three then."



"I will."



I hung up right away. After what she pulled on me a couple days ago, I'm not sure how I feel. She's doing her job, but I seriously can't grasp how me being openly gay would obliterate my career. Other successfull bands have either gay members or are so close you'd think they're gay... and it works. So why not us?



The line moved again. I tilted my head to get a better look at what I could expect, and sighed. I'm not sure the ice cream will survive this ten-meter trip.



~



Finally home. To hell with grocery stores. I unpacked and sorted everything out – what goes in the fridge, in the cupboards, in the freezer... Poor ice cream. Even though it's half-thawed, I put it in the freezer. I stared at the slab of ground pork and gave it a poke. It's warm and mushy. Probably best if I use it to cook tonight.



I sat down on the couch and closed my eyes. The apartment was oddly quiet again, with only the hum of the fridge and the laptop's fan. The sound system's remote still laid by my side, at the exact same spot it landed at yesterday morning. I reached for it, but my trusty smartphone vibrated at the same moment. Time for me to head out.



I locked my apartment door and walked down about five steps before I was spotted by my downstairs neighbor. The woman. I forgot her name. It's Asian though, that's as much as I recall. She waved at me with a smile.



Does she know her boyfriend came upstairs for a quickie?



I gave her a smile as well, albeit a sheepish one, and I must've gone a shade paler. I wasn't expecting her. Oh boy, I wasn't. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.



"Hey there, little guy!"



I bared my teeth. I know I'm small for a man, thank you very much. Don't need people to constantly rub it in my face.



No, that's fine, don't comment. Please don't. I like cock as much as the next gay guy but... well, there's a time and place for everything. In the stairways while my downstairs neighbor is grinning at me is not that time.



I don't wanna face her. I could just ignore her, or tell her that I have to be outta here as soon as possible, which is the truth. So I greeted her with an unsure, half-hearted "hey there..."



She leaned on the railing and smiled. "So, how was he?"



I blinked and quirked my brows. The fuck? "Sorry?"



"It was hard to ignore the bedpost hitting the wall for thirty minutes. He's got stamina." She licked her lips and closed her eyes.



She licked her fucking lips.



I'm serious... You can't make this shit up.



"He has to be, he's a fireman. He has a nice hose, if you catch my drift," she continued. Her voice was melodious, as if she could feel it him inside of her right now.



I just stared right at her. I got laid by her boyfriend and she's talking about it like it was normal. Bisexuality is normal, true. But when a guy cheats on the girl he lives with a man that moved in the building a week ago... and the girl acts like she doesn't mind... what the fuck is going on?!



She raised her brows. "You saw it too."



Is she trying to get me to admit I slept with her boyfriend?! Is she going to kick my ass?! Dear gods, save me. I can't fight a woman... I have no issues getting into fistfights, ask my friends, but the gentleman part of me just can't bring himself to hit a girl. Not even Ieva.



I threw nervous glances around me and opened my mouth, ready to dart away. "I huh... I have no idea what you're even talking about..."



And that's what I did. I flew down the stairs, my heart pounding and blood rushing to my head. I was dizzy and slightly out of breath when I reached the doors. I made the mistake of looking back to her, because when I did... I nearly crumbled against the wall.



I can't go back home tonight. Where the fuck am I gonna go? I don't know anyone and I sure as hell don't wanna go to Ieva. She'd tell me I asked for it anyways, that I shouldn't have slept with him...



I got to my car, unlocked the door and slumped over the wheel, eyes wide in fear. My hands shook, my mouth was dry. I wish I had vodka or Jack Daniel's or beer. I'd down it all. I fumbled for the keys in my pocket and started the car. The tires screeched as I turned the wheels and sped the fuck out of the one-way street.



Fuck my life.



~



It wasn't until I was on the highway that I calmed down. For a good mile, I was afraid she got into her own car – if she owns one, fuck if I know – and ram me to death. Literally. Over the overpass. Crash boom clank, there goes Sammi. In my mind, I was sure I'd be dead in the next five minutes. But at around two in the afternoon, the highway's not extremely busy, and I had no problems keeping a good distance between other passing cars.



I'm not a huge fan of silence. I slowed down a little bit to fetch my smartphone and hook it to the radio. A familiar tune came through the speakers, lulling me to a sense of security I desperately needed at this point of my – possibly short? – life.



My parents were a little into music. Not all that much, but I have to admit they have decent tastes. Most of it is stuff from the late sixties and seventies, hard rock and early heavy metal. Aerosmith, Rolling Stones, Deep Purple, Pink Floyd, Queen... That's the sound I grew up with.



The very first memory I have is related to Queen, in fact. I must've been three or four years old when I heard Spread Your Wings. If you're familiar with Queen, you know the song. "Spread your wings and fly away... fly away, far away..." That song is about a man nammed Sammy, and my nickname is Sammi. I remember asking my mother if Spread Your Wings was about me. I might not have spoken English at four, but hey, I knew when people said my name.



Sammy was alone, just watching the show

Over and over again

Knew it was time, he made up his mind

To leave his dead life behind



In my memory, mom looks at me and smiles softly. "It's not really about you, Sammi... but we want you to spread your wings too!"



I was far too young to understand the true meaning behind "spreading my wings", even in my mother tongue. I remember looking up to her, stating that I didn't have wings, asking when I was going to get them, if they had them... were we birds? Could we really fly? I wanna fly!



"Spread your little wings and fly away..."



Mom lifts me up in her arms and does the plane with me. She's giggling, and so am I. She's always had a nice voice.



Damn, I love my mom. And I'm not ashamed of it.



I'll give her a call when I get back from the studio. Haven't called since I first stepped into my new apartment last week. I know she's not worried, but I feel like talking to someone.



~



Ten minutes early. Take that, Ieva. And I didn't even drive recklessly.



I parked in front of the building, dumped some quarters in the parking meter and calmly made my way to the building. Today's not as cold outside, and the sun's shining. I hadn't even realized that before I reached the glass doors. I decided it was a good omen for my meeting with Ryan Stevens.



It's a nice place. There's a lot of windows in the lobby, it's clean, a little on the rustic side, and it's on the island itself. Outside of it would have been fun too, somewhere in the suburbs, but this is cool.



I glanced around the lobby and tried to figure out where I was supposed to go. I thought they were going to meet me here, but they weren't in the area. So I leaned on a wall and pulled out my cellphone. Might as well make good use of this time... and entertain myself with memes.



"He should be here by now..."



I knew that voice to be Ieva's, and lifted my head up. She walked down the corridor, accompanied by whom I recognized as Ryan Stevens, pieced together from magazine pictures and websites and video interviews and documentaries... Shaven bald, grey goatee, red and black checkered shirt, jeans. Fit too. For a guy in his fifties, he's definitely attractive.



I swear, I'm not a stalker.



I smirked as they walked in my direction – and hoped to not look too creepy.



Ieva stood between Ryan and I. She turned her head towards me. "Glad to see you here, Sammi; we were just talking about your band," she mentioned with a smile. "Ryan, this is Samuli Holopainen, Sudenkyösky's lead singer and guitarist."



I've wanted this moment to happen for such a long time, and now that it was here... I had no clue what to say. Not a single fucking clue whatsoever. My brain just shut down. All I could do was stare right at Ryan with a goofy, fanboyish smile.



There we go, I now managed to make myself look like a total idiot in front of one of my heroes.



"Sammi?"



My eyes widened and I recoiled. Ieva waved her manicured hand in front of my face. "Oh huh..." Crap, what am I gonna say? C'mon Sammi, say something smart...



I extended my hand to shake his, and I pulled the sweetest smile ever. Or so I thought.



"My name's Samuli."



Theory confirmed. I am an idiot.



Ieva tilted his head and quirked her brows. She gave me a crooked, disapproving fake smile. "That's what I just said."



I opened my mouth to say something – anything, for hell's sake! – but nothing came out.



Instead, Ryan caught hold of my hand. He chuckled softly. "Nice meeting you, Samuli. Looking forward to working with you guys. I heard your demos and they sounded pretty solid already." His grip was firm and warm, and if it were only me... I wouldn't let go.



Goodbye, brain. Was nice knowing you before you melted out on me, fuckwad.



I finally took the cue to let go of his hand, and he stood there with a smile on his face. A genuine, friendly smile.



"Ieva had a quick tour of the studio, and if you want, I can show you around too," he suggested.



"Sounds good to me." I can't believe this is the first sentence I said to him that made sense.



Ryan nodded. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave a squeeze. He turned his head towards Ieva. "We'll be back in a bit."



Wow... if anyone had told me that Ryan Stevens would one day lead me around in a recording studio as we're now working together, I'd have asked if they were on crack. That as much as I love our band, Ryan Stevens had bigger acts to take care of. And yet, there I was, following Ryan like a wide-eyed puppy.



He turned left into a smaller corridor, and let go of my shoulders to open the first door there. "This is the master control room," he noted.



My eyes drifted to the large console. I ran a finger along the edge, careful not to hit a button or a slider. Neat. I don't know how to work that stuff, but I know not to touch anything. If I do, there will be a lot of work completely ruined and a Sammi-shaped hole in the wall behind me with blood splatters all around it.



"There's the recording room right behind it, and we have some soundproof booths further down," Ryan continued. I raised my head from the console and looked beyond the thick window. The recording room was pretty large – by my standards – and that'll come in handy with the drum kit our drummer has. We might even have room for a small brass orchestra!



I nodded rhythmically as I looked around the room, and a smile tugged at my lips. I could already hear the music. The guitars, the bass, the drums, the violin, the keyboards... I sat on the small leather couch behind me, and lifted my eyes to meet Ryan's.



This is where I belong, in a recording studio. I'm gonna like it here.



Ryan returned the smile. He chuckled and extended his hand to help me back to my feet. "C'mon. I'll show you the soundproof booths." I grabbed it and let him pull me up. The guy has some serious grip, and I like guys with serious grips...



I blushed and giggled uncomfortably. I wish I had a longer coat, because it'd hide the erection I'll have if this doesn't stop.



Of course, Ryan had to open the door for me. He led me out of the room and in the corridor with a light, friendly tap on the back. This guy has managed to reduce me to a giggling fanboy within minutes, it doesn't seem to be anywhere near over. I'd love to say this isn't me, but it's exactly me.



He moved beside me as we kept down the corridor. We turned another corner, into a smaller corridor with several doors.



"These are the soundproof booths I talked about," Ryan explained as he stepped in front of me to open the booth's door. "You could scream bloody murder and-"



He stopped mid-sentence. I tilted my head to see what startled him, and... Wow. I guess I should have expected that some staff liked to use those soundproof rooms to fuck. Two guys at that. My lips automatically curved into a wide grin. Definitely wouldn't have minded watching that a little more, but Ryan closed the door, under the bewildered look of both dudes.



He chuckled and turned around to face me, then shook his head in light-hearted dismissal. "So... as you can see, the staff is gay-friendly."



Fortunately so. The problem is that I was hard at that point. It really doesn't take a lot to arouse me. I gave him an awkward, sheepish grin, and averted my gaze.



"I'm guessing that it works out, huh?" Ryan added in amusement.



I felt his eyes move to my crotch. It was like my cheeks caught on fire. My entire body stiffened. I brought a hand to the back of my head and giggled uncomfortably once again. "Yeah... heh..."



Ryan laughed out loud and patted my back. I appreciate the gesture, but it is not helping. "Come on, I'll show you the kitchen," he offered with a nod in the right direction. "If we're lucky, we might even get to see food porn."



Nope. Not helping at all. I really need a longer coat.



~



In a few weeks, I'll be here everyday. With Ryan. I can't wait. The sane part of me told me several times to stop staring at him and to get my act straight. The rest of my brain simply begged me to ignore reason, keep as close as possible to him and follow him like a puppy.



By the time we got back to the lobby, my entire brain had given up on rationality. So I stood in front of him, eyes wide open and a stupid, childish smile on my lips.



"So, how'd the tour go?"



I snapped out of it and turned around. Ieva walked up to us. She smiled, but there was something awkward about it. Kinda cold, forced. But I have Ryan around. Why the fuck would I let her ruin this moment?



"I think Sammi'll do fine here," Ryan announced. With a chuckle, he gave me another hearty pat on the back.



She chuckled lightly. "Well, I'm happy that to see you two seem to get along. By the way, Sammi, I'll need to talk to you before you leave."



I nodded to her, but my eyes washed right back to Ryan. I shifted my weight, suddenly uncomfortable once more. "I guess I'll see you later then," I managed.



That's when my body took over. I stepped forward and threw my arms around Ryan's waist. He did recoil a little, but I had caught him off guard. Still, he didn't back off – in fact, he returned the freaking hug.



I can now die happy.



A few seconds passed, and I withdrew. Part of me was reluctant, but the other part just realized I was acting like a total fanboy. I lifted my head to gauge Ryan's reaction, and he calmly smiled back at me. Like it didn't bother him. My jaw promptly dropped to the floor and my cheeks flushed red. I bought my hands up in defense. "Oh fuck, I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry-"



Now, get this. He laughed. He laughed. A genuine laugh too.



"Hey, don't worry," he spoke up. "That's just fine."



I suddenly became too aware of Ieva's presence. She glared right at me, arms crossed over her breasts. "Alright Sammi, I need to talk to you now." She reached for my arm and tugged in order to get me to move. She turned to Ryan. "I'll schedule another meeting for the both of you later this week. Now, if you'll excuse us, I need Sammi for five minutes, then I'll be right back to you."



I gave Ryan a wave and a smile before Ieva dragged me out of the lobby, and into a nearby room. There was something in the air that screamed uneasiness, and I could tell it wasn't only from that impulse hug. She walked to me and pulled out her cellphone. She unlocked the screen.



"I'm not going to have you read the whole thing here, but this is exactly what I was warning you about," she stated as she handed the device to me. "And this is just the beginning."



I rolled my eyes and scoffed in dismissal. It couldn't be that bad, could it?



"People are starting to talk."



I skimmed through the text, a gossip-style article in some e-magazine about my not-so-recent coming out, if I can say that. Because if these people had done their research right, they'd have figured out I've never really been that far in the closet, and none of that shit would have been needed.

"In short, they're afraid to deal with some gay-themed metal that would ruin the entire genre, and they're pointing straight at you as someone who could start it. They're taking things out of context too, but when their people read this, so will they."



I shrugged. "Never even heard of these guys... As long as you don't tell me it's Canada's biggest metal e-mag, no one's gonna give a fuck."



"It isn't, but it's not far from it. Just be careful about what you say. Don't dig yourself in a hole you can't come out of, and for hell's sake..." She took a deep breath and claimed her phone back. "Don't out anyone you know who might still be in the closet, and please, don't start sleeping around."



Damnit, I'm a man with needs. I'm here to record, true, but I wanna take advantage of my current situation. I'm thirty years old, I'm single, I have a decent income, and I'm in a city with a large gay population. Maybe I can keep a low profile, or find a stable partner again...



Or there's Kevin.



As for not outing anyone... I'm not that type of guy. I can respect what other people go through. Just because it wasn't a big deal for me – until now... - doesn't mean that it's the same for other gay men and women out there. "Don't worry. I'll try not to add too much to it all for now. But you can't expect me to go back in the closet."



She sighed again and shook her head. "I'm not telling you to go back into it, I'm just warning you that if you behave too... stereotypically, that it won't work here."



Me? Stereotyped in a bad way? I narrowed my eyes. "Are you serious? Do you really think that-..." I was at a loss for words, and it took me a few seconds to come up with something other than a string of nonsensical crap. "Do you really think sexuality changes people that much? That all gay guys are-"



She cut me out. I saw her fingers stiffen in annoyance. "Sammi, I am not saying that. But other people do, and unfortunately, these appearances do matter here. You and I both know the fans enough to understand the core of the problem."



"Alright, alright, I get it..." I shifted my weight around and stretched my arms, restless. "Can I get out of here now?"



Ieva nodded. She took deep breaths in order to calm down. "Keep your cellphone on. I'll forward you the full article, and I'll get in touch with the magazine, see what I can do."



As I walked to the door, I raised my hand to show her I understood that. Ryan was still in the lobby, but to be honest, I didn't care right now. I just wanted to go home and play guitar. Cut myself off from all this bullshit, if only for a few hours.



I made it back to my car, sat in the driver seat, and turned on the music. Which reminded me of what I had told Ieva a couple days ago.



Just to piss off the homophobes, one day, I'm gonna write that song about bending over for other guys.