Page 17 of Rewrite the Stars
‘I totally got that he was your big brother and of course he was worried, but no matter how much I tried to explain to him that to me you were different, he wouldn’t have it,’ says Tom. ‘He was the big boss at the time, it was his band and I had to do what he said if I wanted to keep my place. We were really going places and he made me choose – go after you like I wanted to or stay in the band. At least he said that was why he was mad.’
I bite my lip as it all falls into place. Maybe this isn’t as bad as it seems. Unless there’s more?
‘But there’s no band now, right?’ I say to him. ‘There is no band so none of that matters any more, does it? We can be together now if we want to. It’s nothing to do with Matthew any more.’
I think of my brother and all the times he seemed to stand in my way when in his head he was standing up for me. He was always so super protective and I hated him for it, but maybe he had a point. He saw Tom as a Casanova who would break my heart. He was looking out for me as any big brother would, but that time is over now. We are where we are now. We can live in the present.
‘No, there is no band now, and I’d a big part to play in that too,’ says Tom, dropping his head and looking away. ‘That’s when the story ends, and it wasn’t a happy ending, as you know.’
Oh. So I haven’t heard it all yet. Thereismore …
‘Why did you guys break up?’ I ask him. ‘Please don’t say it was over me?’
Tom wets his lips with his tongue and exhales long and slow. My stomach hits my mouth.
‘We were having silly rows up until then,’ he continues quickly. ‘There were cracks. Me and Matthew were clashing left, right and centre. He wanted to be the star of the show, I wanted to have more say in what direction we were going in. It was a clash of ego, of power, a real-life case of too many chiefs, and I told him he was jealous, but I always had a feeling it was more than that.’
I dab my nose with a tissue as I try and absorb my part in all of this.
‘Jealous? You mean, jealous of you?’
He bites his lip. ‘Yes, I guess in a way he was jealous of me,’ he says, his eyes heavy now and sad. ‘But notjustjealous of me. He was jealous … he was jealous of what me and you could be if we got together.’
It all starts to make sense now, even if it seems so petty and ridiculous on Matthew’s part. He used to make every excuse he could think of to put me off Tom Farley. He used to love to tell me that he’d a woman at every gig, a different one every night, and because he knew I fancied Tom he’d remind me that I’d always just be the same to him. I’d offer to help out at gigs, but Matthew would have anyone but me come along and hang out with them. He would never let me get close.
‘I felt there was something deeper going on with him, something I couldn’t control, and I just couldn’t work around his negative energy any longer so I stormed out and we all became history after that,’ says Tom. ‘It cost me my whole musical future, but it also lost me a very good friend and any chance of seeing you again. Maybe that was a big mistake. Maybe it was a selfish, childish move that backfired as it broke up the band and it broke … well, it broke Matthew too, I suppose, didn’t it? I never imagined he would take it so badly.’
I can’t think straight. I put my hand to my forehead. Do my parents know this? Did Matthew tell them he was jealous of the idea of me and Tom getting together? I still don’t understand why. My family have been to hell and back with Matthew for four years now, but do they know I had a part to play in this too, even if I’d no idea?
The music in the bar is irritating now instead of entertaining and the punters are suddenly too loud. I’m uncomfortable instead of cosy. I’m sick instead of happy and content.
I can’t speak right now. All I can think of is my brother and his mental health problems that have driven him to some very dark places, of the recluse he has become, of his rejection, of his avoidance of any mention to do with the band he set up with such love and attention. He refused to tell me what happened, but I’d never have guessed any of this.
‘And you’re sure that’s all it was?’ I choked. I’ve a feeling there was more. There had to be. ‘It seems pretty trivial to build up a band for a year then throw it away over you asking for my phone number.’
Tom’s chest rises and falls, and he looks away, his face etched with pain.
‘I dunno, Charlie,’ he sighs. ‘I tried to talk to Matt. I really tried to dig deep with him, you know? He was acting so strangely around me, and I couldn’t get it out of him if there was something else. Are you sure he never told you anything?’
I shake my head. Matthew’s darkness moved a black cloud over our whole family as we battled to help him, but he refused to talk. He just closed up and said he’d had enough of life. We’ve been on a time bomb of nerves with him ever since, watching his every move. Tom’s return could be enough to tip him over the edge again.
My phone rings, giving us both a welcome distraction until we see who it is.
‘Oh God, you’ll never believe it but it’s Matthew calling me,’ I whisper, wishing I could just run away from all this mess between these two men who I’ve so much feeling for. Could he have found out where I am today?
‘You should answer it,’ says Tom, rubbing his temples. ‘Would it help if I spoke to him?’
I look at the floor. The smell of Guinness is turning my stomach now and the fire is too hot. I can’t answer. I can’t answer Tom and I can’t answer my phone. Matthew leaves me a voicemail message, but I don’t need to listen to it. I know how his moods have been lately. If he’s heard I’m with Tom, he’ll just spit out a rage at me and I can’t cope with what he has to say right now.
Plus, I’m angry at him. I’m so angry that he couldn’t see past his own ego back then, his own big brother macho attitude or his own jealousy that I might have just an inch more talent than he wanted me to have or might stamp on his toes. How dare he make that decision for me when it was none of his business?
I’m angry at Tom now, too. I can’t believe he didn’t stand up to Matthew more and push through with the band when it was all he ever wanted in life and when they were showing so much potential. How petty of them to throw it all away over some jealous row – unless there was more to it than I’m being told?
‘Aren’t you going to call him back?’ Tom asks me and I shake my head.
I feel a bit sick. I don’t want to talk to Matthew right now.
‘I think I need some fresh air,’ I tell him, lifting my coat.
