Disasterpiece

I woke up in the same position I had fell asleep in on Joey’s couch, only the person I had fell asleep next to was no longer there. I uncramped my legs from underneath me, stumbling to my feet and made my way over to the stairs. Yawning as I went up I found myself on the first floor; looking around I saw Joey sitting in the kitchen with his back to me, hunching over something. Unsure if I should disturb him or not, I moved forward apprehensively watching him.

When I was close enough I could see that he was staring at a photo of a girl with red hair, his thumb running over the glossy paper gently. I watched him fold the picture in two with a sigh and push it across the bench out of his reach. I smiled weakly and stepped a little closer, he turned around realising my presence and rubbed his face tiredly.

“Been up for long?” I asked conversationally, knowing it was better for both of us to pretend I hadn’t seen him staring at her. He shrugged, getting off the stool he walked into the kitchen and filled the kettle.

“Not really, want a coffee or something?” he replied, I bit my lip looking up at the kitchen clock to see it was almost midday and shook my head.

“Better not, Corey will be storming through your door if I stay much longer,” I said, Joey nodded knowing there was only truth in my words. He put the kettle down and came around the breakfast bar, standing in front of me nervously. He ran his hands through his hair; it fell back over his face almost immediately.

“Look…thank you for everything you did for me last night, I don’t think any of the guys would’ve been able to help me like you did,” he started, his eyes diverted to the side quickly then fell back onto mine. “And I owe you an apology for been a jerk, I don’t know how but I will try and make it up to you,” he added, I smiled sadly.

“There’s no need to really, I understand completely,” I said honestly; it was enough of a reward to be able to stand in the same room as him without evil glares and remarks. Of course it was going to make it harder to fight certain feelings, but at least those feelings wouldn’t feel so banal.

“God…you’re pretty amazing you know?” he said in mild astonishment; it was almost like he was thinking out loud. I blinked as he looked down quickly; my imagination swore a light pink tinge flushed his cheeks briefly.

“Ha!” I said awkwardly, scratching my wrist nervously. “Well I should probably go now,” I said quietly, Joey jerked his head upwards; his hands extended out quickly grabbing mine; I resisted the urge to step back in shock. His eyes widened, almost as if even he was shocked by his own reaction – but he continued on without releasing his grasp.

“We can be friends now right, even after all of this?” he asked, my eyes narrowed in puzzlement.

“Well…I certainly hope so,” I replied slowly, Joey breathed out with the biggest smile I had ever seen from him to date and let my hands drop from his. I may not have to decipher coded reasons of hate anymore; but there was something about Joey that I think I will never be able to completely understand. Joey walked me out of his house and after an awkward half hug that left me feeling slightly light headed, I watched him disappear in the distance through the rear view mirror as I drove off for Corey’s; a cohesive explanation for said brother’s benefit attempting to form in my head.

Griffin’s light snores echoed through my ears like a lullaby; our chest’s rose and fell together as he slept across my chest; thumb in mouth. We lay sprawled out on one of the couches in the studio lounge; the only other two still here were locked away in the studio together, I had been watching them silently through drooping eyes as the sky darkened to pitch black outside. It was a few days after that night, and while everyone who had witnessed our fight had a mild coronary when we greeted each other pleasantly the next day at the studio, I could tell they were all relieved – even happy – that we had worked things out. The fact that Joey was getting some colour back in his face may also be a factor.

My head slipped over the edge of the couch arm wearily, any energy I had seeped out and left me for dead. I wrapped my arms tighter around Griffin and closed my eyes only to be woken up again the next second.

“VJ you awake?” I heard Corey hiss softly across the room. I groaned inwardly, lifting my heavy head up to look at Corey who was poking his head out of the recording booth.

“Kind of,” I replied groggily, my voice a tad raspy. Corey came out of the booth making his way across the room and moved my arms away from Griffin. “What are you doing?” I asked in confusion. Corey cradled Griffin in his arms gently, taking him over to another couch and laying him down; they boy didn’t even stir. I sat up stretching, my back cracking a few times; Corey came back over to me holding his hand out. “Again, what are you doing?” I repeated, raising my eyebrow. Corey rolled his eyes, bent down grabbing my unoffered hand and began to tug me towards the booth.

“You’re always so difficult,” he muttered under his breath lightly, I stuck my tongue out in childish response.

The last time I had been in the booth burnt fiercely in my mind as the door closed with an echoing click behind us. Joey looked up from the mixing booth, brushing some stray hair from his face and grinned at me. I grinned back as I was pushed into the chair next to him by Corey’s strong hands; I landed with a small squeak. Crossing my arms and my legs in defiance I watched Corey exit the booth and go into the section where all the instruments were. I must’ve had an interesting expression on my face as I watched because when I side glanced at Joey he was wearing quite a bemused expression.

“What?” I asked, Joey shook his head turning back to the mixing desk and looked out through the glass panel to the section Corey was in. I followed his gaze to find Corey sitting on a stool in the middle of the room with a guitar and a microphone on a stand in front of him.

“Ready?” he said into the microphone; I looked between him and Joey – Joey nodded at him pressing one of the various red buttons on the board. Four soft beeps came out of the speakers on the wall then Corey started to strum a familiar riff; a riff we had re-shared only recently. My mouth opened, I unfolded my arms and leant forward in the chair in shock; my heart began to pump harder against my ribs. Corey’s eyes sparkled in the fluorescent light as he stared out at me, knowing that I knew instantly that this was our song. He closed his eyes and began to sing, the other pre-recorded instruments playing along with him. It had never seemed so powerful, even when it was the nightmare lullaby; somehow to hear it in its perfect completed form was mind numbingly overwhelming; I couldn’t even begin to explain it.

I didn’t even realise that tears were falling from my eyes until Joey took my hand, squeezing it gently. I looked over at him, he drew his chair closer to me; reaching out with his free hand he wiped my cheeks with his thumb. My face went hot at his touch, I looked down at the floor feeling queasy; between the intimacy with Joey and Corey’s song I was surprised I was still breathing. We sat like that until the music faded away, Joey never letting go of my hand until Corey came back into the booth.

I got up and ran over to him, wrapping my arms tightly around him. He reciprocated, burying his head in my shoulder.

“Corey it sounded amazing,” I whispered weakly into his shirt.

“I’m glad you like it, it’s for you,” he whispered back; we pulled away from each other slowly.

“Are you putting it on your album?” I asked him.

“Will you let me?” he replied, I grinned stupidly punching him playfully in the arm.

“I will be personally offended if you don’t share it with the world,” I informed him honestly; I mean I know it’s more special to me and Corey but even without the significance it was one of the most beautiful compositions I have ever heard. Corey smiled happily, grabbing my hand like he had before he pulled me over to the far wall where a small whiteboard was hanging, written on it were twelve numbers followed by what I assumed were song titles next to them – bar one. Corey let go of my hand only to fill it quickly again with a marker; I looked fearfully up at him.

“I want you to name it,” he said, I coughed giving him a ludicrous look.

“Corey I can’t do that…it’s your band,” I replied uneasily – not to mention that I was sure no words or combination of words could do the song justice.

“But it’s your tune,” he pushed eagerly.

“I didn’t write it though you did,” I pointed out stubbornly.

“But I wrote it for you, I would never have come up with it if it weren’t for you,” he retorted playfully, though just as stubbornly as me. I sighed, turned to the whiteboard and stared blankly at the black block letters already up there. What did this song mean? It was a comfort song, but then at the same time it had a darker side too. A horror slayer, nightmare killing machine in our younger days; and but his lyrics were modern, from this era of our lives. I turned to Corey, catching Joey’s eye too who was watching from his chair in interest. We three, we all had a lot of past experiences that no assassin could go back and wipe out no matter how much you offered them.

That was it then, this song was a liberation; it was a snuffing all the shit we’ve had to put up with. I looked at Joey directly; he tilted his head just slightly to the side; I bit my lip.

“How about Snuff?”