Passion, Proof, Power

 

Passion, Proof, Power

Chapter 4







Home sweet home. Well, almost home.



I parked across the street and right in front of my apartment building. The moment I grabbed the car's door handle, I froze. What if she was waiting for me to come back? I could see her, waiting patiently in the stairs, knife or baseball bat in hand... My hands began to shake, my chest rose with bated breath. I felt light-headed, almost sick, feverish. A shiver ran down my spine.



Okay Sammi, calm down. She's not that nuts. You, on the other hand...



I fell against the back of my seat and took a deep breath. I took my cellphone out and texted my drummer, Teemu, while I kept an eye on the front door. I really didn't want to come across her again. I glanced back at my phone every now and then, whenever I heard the new text beep or someone approached my car.



After fifteen minutes, I finally stepped out of the car. After all, I wasn't gonna let someone else have such power over me... and I was getting cold. I opened the car's door and casually closed it behind me, using the remote starter to lock it as I crossed the street. I tried my best not to sound too hurried, but I had to act normal.



I let out a loud breath when I finally reached my doorstep, on the third floor. Now I was home. My hands had stopped shaking, and I had no issue unlocking the door, or locking it back when I made it inside. I kicked my boots off, unzipped my jacket, threw it on the couch and flopped right beside it.



Already tired of not having any distraction, I reached for the remote control and turned the TV on. Cartoons, soap operas, children's TV, news networks... I'll probably never memorize which channel is what exactly, but I managed to find English-speaking local news.



The noise immediately calmed me down. I relaxed in my seat and closed my eyes.



"In other news, a man and two women have been injured in a car accident, which left the Christophe-Colomb avenue paralyzed on two lanes..."



Feeling safe once again, I curled up on the couch and let the anchor's voice lull me to sleep.



~



I jerked awake. Something had rumbled in my pants. Oh, look at that, a new email. Joy. I stretched my arms and leg as I got up from my uncomfortable position, and stumbled to the swivel chair in front of my laptop. I opened a web browser and logged into my email account.



Subject: Read this and call me after



It was the article Ieva talked about earlier. She doesn't usually kid around with that shit, so I was quick to open the link and read what I expected to be complete bullshit.



Well, let's say it didn't disappoint me, bullshit-wise.



I rolled my eyes as I read the text. Here's a nifty little excerpt.



If you're gay, I don't fucking wanna know about it. I don't think anyone wants to know you like to take it up the ass. The last thing I want to think about when I listen to your music, is you on all fours getting fucked. I want "spilled guts" gore, not "there's a dick ramming my ass" gore.



Classy, right? Honestly, some people were bound to react badly to it. Not like I was expecting a hundred percent support from a community known to be somewhat homophobic; it'd be like expecting Justin Bieber's fanbase to act rationally in front him.



Hey, I got nothing against Biebs. It's his fanclub I can't stand. Wonder if I could stand them if they were my fanclub...



Speaking of being able to stand crap. Want some more of that article?



It destroyed whatever imagery I had from their songs. I can't listen to them and not want to shove a real sword up his ass. Because the next thing we know, Sudenkyösky's next album is going to be ridden with songs about him breaking up with his boytoy.



Nah, not on the next album. We have about twelve songs to consider, so no space for romance or sad break-up songs. That'll have to wait until the one after. Sorry buddy.



So is that the future of metal? Little fags trying to make their way into real men territory?



'Little fag?' I know I'm small, Christ, drop it already.



I stopped reading there and let my arms fall to my side. Not in defeat, but in annoyance. I scoffed and shook my head. I reached for the phone set on my desk and dialed Ieva's office.



"Ieva Laaksonen speaking..."



I leaned on my desk. "So I got that editorial thingamajig. That has gotten you riled up? Looks like a standard attempt at slander to me... or sub-standard, rather. Shit's awful."



She let out a loud breath into the receiver. "He's claiming your homosexuality is some sort of doubl entendre to the entire album. This may not be the biggest e-mag, but... do you recognize the name of the guy who wrote this?"



Now that got me curious. I turned my attention back at the screen in front of me and scrolled up. "It's... huh... Timothy McCormack."



McCormack... why's that name familiar again-...



I frowned. My lips formed a thin line. No, no way.



To put it short, Timothy McCormack is one of the best known critics on the Canadian scene, and probably on North America's. He's made several groups, but he's utterly destroyed others. He's biased, and it's why it works. Of course there's going to be other people scoffing at this and dismissing it, but since he's big here... Ieva's not gonna take any chance.



"For now, just try not to make things worse. Don't forget the interview you have with SCREAM mag this Tuesday; they're a big competitor, so I'm not gonna be surprised when they run the complete opposite story. That might redeem you a bit."



Yep, redeem me. I got jack shit to be redeemed for, I didn't even do anything wrong. It's McCormack who's taken all that shit outta context, not me!



"You'll be getting more of those interviews in the coming days, I can feel it. I'll keep you updated. Don't get into trouble."



I sank back in my chair and looked up at the ceiling. "I won't. Stop worrying."



I heard a beep coming from the receiver. Ieva sighed once more. "Call waiting. I'll let you know what's coming up in a couple hours, tomorrow morning at most."



"Alright, thanks." I may have sounded tired and unappreciative at that point, but I actually meant it. She didn't go nuts at me this time, but she probably had too much on her hands to give me another speech. I hung up, put the receiver back on the desk and closed my eyes.



I thought I was going to have some time to cook a decent meal, but nope. Five seconds later, someone knocked at my door. I groaned as I got up to my feet and dragged my sorry ass across the room.



Is ten minutes to cook a cheeseburger too much to ask for?



But I cracked the door open. "Yes?" I stiffened immediately. The woman from downstairs stood on the other side. She didn't look mad... so I really don't get her, and it scares the fuck out of me. Wary, I remained hidden behind the door. I couldn't look straight up at her, so I kept my gaze averted and stared at her from the corner of my eyes. "What's up?"



"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," she stated, trimmed brows frowned slightly. "I even called Kevin to check if-"



I went a shade paler again and cowered a little. "No, don't worry about me, I'm fine. Just had a rough day, haha..." I giggled nervously. My hands rattled the doorknob, which my brain wanted to close in her face. I could hear my heart pound in my ears.



She tilted her head. "I can tell Kevin to come and see you after his shift-"



I threw my hands in the air and recoiled. "No! It's fine, don't worry. I'll... huh... I gotta cook. I'm starving."



She quirked her brow and put her hand on the doorknob. She peeked inside. "I can cook something for you if you want. You look sick. Are you sure you don't want any help?"



I nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks anyways. Well, huh... thanks..." I slowly closed the door, but like Kevin had done previously, she stopped it.



I cowered behind the door. Please... don't harm me...



She peeked inside again. "Listen, I just wanna talk to you, and then I'll leave."



"I'm quite sure it can wait-"



"Kevin's my fuck buddy, not my boyfriend."



That... was... unexpected. I parted my lips to say something, but I couldn't. I looked like a fish. I backed out of the doorway to let her in. I needed to hear more.



And that's exactly what she did. "Long story short, Kevin and I met through common friends. We both wanted casual sex. So we moved in together. I know he sleeps with other guys, that doesn't bother me," she admitted, arms crossed over her breasts. "I have another guy besides Kevin... we're both pretty open about it."



I was still too startled to say anything that made sense, so I kept my mouth shut and nodded. I'd have never guessed.



She shrugged, and then smiled softly. "I guess Kevin didn't have the occasion to tell you about it. Normally, he does. Just so that everyone's on the same page."



"Yeah..." Wow, I managed to say something that won't make me look like a fool. That's one hell of a relief, mind you.



No strings attached; right now, this is exactly what I need. The problem is... I wonder if I can manage it. I've had one-night-stands before, but it says what it says: one night stand. I don't think I've seen any of these guys afterwards. But in the long run, can I successfully not get attached? Guess there's only one way...



"Well... I'll give it a shot," I continued with a light, albeit unsure chuckle. As long as I don't have to sleep with her too, I might be able to handle it.



An awkward silence washed over the room. I shifted uncomfortably. In the back of my mind, there was this voice shouting 'Be careful, it's a trap!' and I didn't know whether to listen or not.



She smiled though. I took it as a good sign. "I'll tell Kevin to come up and see you when he comes home, if you want," she offered.



I considered it for just a few seconds. Sex surely wouldn't hurt. "Alright. I'll be here."



She threw a suggestive look in my direction. "Perfect. I'll have him take a shower before he comes up," she said as she reopened the door and disappeared behind it.



I stood in the middle of the living room, eyes locked on the door. I blinked a few times in confusion.



With all of this, I forgot to ask her name.



Instead of running down the stairs and making a complete fool of myself, I realized I could simply ask Kevin later on.



My stomach gargled; I really needed food. Since I had some time before getting fucked – yes, that was my entire goal, getting him over to screw me – I decided to finally cook that cheeseburger. No fries though. I'm convinced I can't cook that without setting everything on fire. Just a cheeseburger with a nice salad on the side. The meat I bought earlier still looked good, so I used it. Lettuce, tomatoes, cheese – a lot of cheese. Add bacon, and there we go, first class homemade burger.



After eating, I grabbed the cordless phone and settled at the kitchen table. I followed up on my earlier thought and dialed my parents' home number. Almost instantly, I heard a message in French. My French hasn't improved in the last five hours, as far as I know... so I had to wait till it was over to hear the English version.



"The number you have dialed is not in service. Please hang up and try again."



I nearly banged my head against the table. I'm not home. I'm outside of Finland. I have to dial the country code. It's basic stuff I should remember... but dialing my parents' number without the country code is automatic. So I dialed again and made sure I got it right.



This time, the call went through. I waited a few seconds before someone picked up.



I heard my mother's sleepy voice. "Hello?"



Oh fuck. Time zone shift. Huh... six p.m here, so one a.m in Helsinki?



I leaned over the table and rested my chin on my open palm, an apologetic smile on my lips. "Hey mom... sorry to call so late. Did I wake you up?"



"Your father and I went to bed about an hour ago." She grunted and cleared her throat. "Is everything okay?"



"Yeah, I'm fine," I nodded. "Just wanted to chat a bit, but if you were asleep, I can call later."



"No no, it's okay." Sheets rustled, and I heard her bedroom door creak. "Didn't want to wake up your father. So how are you doing?"



My smile broadened. "It's good over here. I met up with our producer this afternoon, at the studio. I can't wait, mom. What about you?"



She chuckled softly, then yawned. I really should have called later. "The most exciting part of my day was picking up your cousin Paavo at the recreational center and taking him out for pizza."



Paavo's my mom's older sister's son. He's kinda like the little brother I never had, even if he's two years older than I am. He's huh... "mentally challenged;" he's basically a seven- or eight-year-old in a full grown man's body. Think Sam from I Am Sam, except more attractive and less of a Beatles fanboy. And with no daughter. Legally, he's still under Auntie Marjatta's care, and when she passes... I don't even wanna think about it. Think positive, Sammi. Think positive. She's just fine right now! Nothing to worry about!



"Tell him "hi" for me next time you see him, please?" I asked as I got up from my chair and walked to the sink. Needed some water.



"I will. By the way, how's Darren?"



I stopped in my tracks. Darren's my ex-boyfriend, whom I had managed to keep away from my thoughts. And my mom had to mention him. "Yeah... about that...." I paused and leaned on the counter, water glass in hand. Maybe I'll ditch the water and grab a beer or two. Or three. "Darren and I aren't together anymore."



She gasped, and kept her voice hushed. "Aw, I'm sorry to hear that, what happened?"



Truth be told, I have no idea either. "He called, said it was over, then he hung up." I was too stunned to call back, and when I realized what happened, I was too angry. It's been a week now, and I still don't wanna do anything about it. I shrugged and dumped the rest of the water in the sink. "I'm fine though."



She took a deep breath. "Sammi, if there's anything I can do-"



"Don't worry. I can handle it." Just don't say his name again and I'll be fine.



"If you need to talk, just call me."



"Don't worry, mom," I repeated as I opened the fridge's door. I grabbed the first bottle of beer and reached for the utility drawer... Now where's that damn bottle opener? "Anyways, I should let you go back to bed."



"I'll probably end up sleeping on the couch," she said with a light chuckle. But her tone changed almost right away. "Are you sure you're okay?"



"Yeah, yeah." I nodded to myself, just as I found the bottle opener. "I'm making new friends already, and Ryan Stevens is awesome. I think it's looking good."



Mom sighed. "Well, take care, Sammi. Call anytime, if you want to talk to me." That's her alright. I remember going out as a teen and calling home at insane hours to be picked up. She never yelled at me for it; I think she figured out that it was better than me driving drunk.



"You too mom. Love you."



"Love you too."



I hung up with a sigh. I really missed her. It's not something I've taken for granted, due to... other circumstances, but it's so much easier when I'm just twenty minutes away from her. Right now, I'm seven time zones away from her. This is the furthest I've been away from home in my entire life. Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely happy to be in North America. But it takes some adjusting to it.



I got back to the kitchen table and downed about half of the bottle. I just wanted a slight buzz before Kevin came around.



"And now, we play the waiting game..." I spoke out loud. I sat back on the chair and contemplated playing guitar until my fuck buddy arrived.



Booze and music, a good combination to get my night going.