You Mustn't Give Your Heart To A Wild Thing

The wind, ferocious and sharp against my face, made the long hard slog up the hill a dozen times worse, and I couldn’t help but notice the fact that whilst I was moving forward, I didn’t appear to be going anywhere fast. A wry smile spread fleetingly across my lips as I realised the same could be said for my situation. Whilst I was moving on; well trying to, and at the most sluggish of paces, it was still a ‘one step forward three steps back’ affair where Verity was concerned.

I had come to terms with the fact that she’d lied to me about her pregnancy, but knowing she’d let both Curtis and Thomas in on her secret had damn near killed me. I could understand that she’d learnt to love someone else in the four years we were apart, but even the thought of her moving on to such an extent as an engagement; let alone marriage, had knocked me for six.

I used to adore the way in which Verity still managed to surprise me, at the very point I’d concluded I knew everything about her. Her surprises then though were nothing like the ones she’d kept hidden up her sleeve until now.

“Why do you sound so breathless?” Samantha asked a few minutes later. I noted the tone of her voice and could picture the inquisitive crook in her eyebrow without even having to see her.

“’ve been ridin’”

“You’ve been what?” She exclaimed, her voice reaching a pitch I wasn’t aware was even possible.

“My bike” I chuckled softly, as I let the handlebars slide from my grip and my bmx fell with a soft thud to the floor. “’ve been ridin’ my bike Sam. ‘elps me clear my head an’ shit”

She would be nodding now. I knew this from the silence. It was a rare occasion that Samantha wasn’t talking; it was even rarer to me to find her to be the only person worth listening to. “Well bro, that’s good that’s...”

“Where’s Verity, Sam?”

For a girl I had met twice Samantha had an intimidating understanding of the way in which I worked. She was quick to interrupt when I would slip into mumblings of profanity, she could answer my unfinished questions before I’d committed to actually asking them, and she ‘got’ my opinion of Veritys whereabouts and the fact that to know it could do more harm than good.

“I thought you didn’t want to know” She mumbled, “under any circumstances”

I rolled my eyes and switched my phone into my left hand so as to pull the door of the bus open. “Things change love, ‘s the way o’ the...”

“Have you been drinking?”

“No. Tha’ would be classed as drink ridin’ love an’ I don’...” I stopped as I tossed my bottle of beer aside as if she could see me, only to have it smash loudly on the floor. “maybe a beer or two”

“A beer or five” Sam sighed, “ it’s the only reason I can think of that would make you do such a turnaround. You were adamant, you were...”

“I’m fickle, ye should know this about me by now” I interrupted, kicking my slip-ons from my feet as I reached the top of the stairs.

“You’re fickle when it comes to anything and everything but Verity, yes” She corrected.

“’m frightened by ‘ow well ye know me love”

“I don’t know you Oliver, I know boys like you” Her sigh was barely audible, but it was enough to stop me in my tracks. And I could imagine the roll of her eyes and the motion of her fingertips brushing through her hair without having to even try. “Every girl has an ‘Oliver Sykes’ bro, and that’s why I’m challenging your motive. Your sudden change of heart”

“We both know my hearts not changed in years” I admitted, finally, aloud.

“But you’re worried that Veritys might of, right?”

It felt more like a valid concern coming from someone else. “’av ye been speakin’ t’Alex?”

“Have you?”

We both fell silent and I found myself picking at the frayed hem of the Pink Floyd shirt I was wearing as she clicked her tongue behind her teeth. “You need to stop calling him bro. He’s on vacation, he’s...”

“ ‘ve not been callin’ ‘im....”I grumbled defensively, “well not that much at least”

“He’s not going to tell you anything you want to hear Oli”

“I already know ‘e proposed to ‘er, what more could there be?” I had everything crossed her answer to this would be nothing.

“You know?”

“tol’ me when I met ‘im at Sound Garden”

“You’ve been to Sound Garden? That’s Veritys favour...”

“Favourite place in Baltimore” I interrupted, “I know, Alex were kind enough t’...”

“I’ve never known anyone to love their job so much as when she worked the...”

“Verity worked at the record shop?”

“Yeah, the summer she moved, when Al was...”

“She moved to Baltimore?" I asked, a large lump rising in my throat. "F' Alex?"

"She spent last summer there, vacation really. I shouldn't have said moved" she corrected quickly. Tripping and tumbling on her sentences as they spilt uncontrollably from her lips like word vomit.

"But ye did love"

"It was nothing Oliver. She went home for a summer with Al. He had some heavy family stuff going on, she was his girlfriend bro, and it made sense. It makes sense"

"She never moved anywhere f' me"

I hated how childish I sounded the second the words escaped the tip of my tongue and Sams shrill laugh confirmed that I'd be right in doing so."You asked her to, at eighteen?" She guffawed unaware of the pink glow washing across my cheeks.

"We had plans" I snapped, "We made plans. I didn’ need t’ ask, it were just...”

“Unspoken” Sam concluded as I struggled to find the word I was looking for. “Everything with you and Verity is always fucking unspoken”

Her manner had become startlingly abrupt and I was unsure whether to make my excuses and hang up the phone unscathed, or press her further and risk the wrath of an exasperated best friend. I was never one for bowing out, I’d never cared for the simple.

“What d’ye mean everything?”

She sucked in a deep breath of air, the type of breath a person takes when they’re choosing their words extremely carefully and I could hear the sound of her tapping an unknown tune out with her fingertips.

“The two of you speak; well you used to, but you never talk and there’s a difference between hearing and listening bro. The pair of you are completely incapable of doing the latter. I’ve watched you together and you communicate with facial expressions and the way you tangle yourselves with one another. I’ve spoken to you both apart and you tell me everything you wouldn’t dream of telling the one person who needs; or who you want, to hear it.” She barely managed to catch her breath before continuing on. “You both think you make your feelings clear; that you don’t need to say them and that they’re that fucking obvious a person on the other side of the world can see them, but you’re wrong bro. You’re so fucking wrong it frightens me, and it’s not gonna change until one of you bites the bullet”

“Verity doesn’ wanna be found Sam, ‘s said she don’t want no one t’...”

“She said that because she thought you weren’t looking”

“I said I weren’t looking ‘cause I knew she’d run further” I admitted, “’m done tryin’ t’ find ‘er Sam. I’m only doin’ this tour ‘cause I know she ‘ad a round ticket. I’m not out ‘ere for the shows love, ‘m out ‘ere ‘cause there’s a slight chance she is too”

“It’s not a slight chance Oli, you know that, you’ve known all along. Verity runs as far as she can get when she’s faced with something uncomfortable, you know this better than anyone, you’re...”

“The guy ’s ran from most”

“I wasn’t going to say that, actually”

I kept deathly quiet; my tongue held between my teeth, silently urging her to go on. “You’re the only one she’s gone back to. You’re the only person she thinks it’s worth coming back for, and you’re the only person that has a chance of bringing her home Ol”

Her words had faded into a desperate plea and I was a little taken aback by the ‘Ol’ that had chased. For a moment I felt uneasy; it felt wrong on the basis that my friends, good friends, were the only ones to call me Ol, but then came the realisation that I had spoken to Samantha every day, without fail, for thee past month. She was the only number in my dialled numbers; other than Veritys broken mobile and she was the only person I’d spoken to today.

“I don’ think ‘m enough to bring ‘er home”

“You were enough four months ago”

“Four months ago I ‘adnt told ‘er I never wan’ed to see ‘er again”

“But you had written an entire album about how much you hated her, and you did stand her up at Warped Tou...”

“Those songs aren’ about...I stood ‘er up?” I choked.

I was stumped.

“T’ stand someone up don’ ye ‘av to make plans t’ meet ‘em?”

“Don’t play stupid with me Oliver, I’ve heard the story a million times”

“An’ I’m yet to ‘ear it love. Enlighten me”

It wasn’t a rare occurrence for me to forget things, in fact Warped Tour the previous year was little more than a blur. I would put my hand up and admit I was no elephant when it came to memory, I would even raise my hand and admit that the last four years were an uneven and incomprehensible mess of girls, shows and parties. But this was Verity, I remembered everything about Verity.

I would’ve remembered planning to meet her, fuck, I would’ve met her.

“You always ask me what that other time was, the time I saw Verity in as big a mess as in France...as now” Sam said, “It was when you didn’t meet her at Warped, It was the billion or so times afterward when she read and re-read the email you sent her, picking it apart, reading a thousand and one things between and into every single line you wrote. That was the other time Oliver. That was when I realised...”

“I never sent ‘er an email Sam” I interrupted hastily, “I don’t even know ‘er email, not even now I...”

I stopped abruptly as all of the conversations we’d had flashed rapidly through my mind; certain words screaming in my ears, forcing their way forward through the muddle of ill placed one liners and ignored sentences. “Ye said to ask Tom. Ye said to ask my brother didn’t ye...when we were in the airport, I asked ye what the other time were and ye said ‘ask ye brother’”

The memory was so vivid and clear I didn’t bother letting her finish. My phone fell heavily from between my fingers to the floor and I was out and off of the bus before I’d even thought to slip my shoes back on.

The warmth of the asphalt against the soles of my feet was overwhelming and I found myself wincing with each step across the parking lot. Thomas had been skating relentlessly around the lot all morning; he was now stretched out on the grass opposite, his eyes closed behind a pair of mirrored wayfarers and his chest rising and falling with the slow shallow breaths of someone on the verge of sleep.

‘Fucking prick’ was caught on the tip of my tongue, but as his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose and our eyes met I thought again. “Thomas”

He straightened himself up immediately, pulling his knees to his chest and looping his arms around to hold them close. “Y’aright Ol?” He asked as he took them from his face, squinting into the sunshine for a second before shading his eyes with a hand placed to his forehead. “Ye look a bit...”

I had never been one for violence and I’d spent the twenty two years prior to this one avoiding fights at all costs, but in the past few months I’d punched the two people closest to me. My fists had clumsily collided with the faces of my best friend and now my brother.

“What the fuck was tha?” He screeched, cupping his hand to his face.

“Warped Tour” I stated simply, “Las’ year”

I watched closely as his eyes darted swiftly and uncontrollably between me, the ground and everything and anything around us. I could see the sweat on his already moist brow increasing from four feet and my eyes narrowed as his hands began to writhe together; the result of sweaty palms, a symptom of nervousness.

“Why do I feel like ye know what ‘m gonna say?”

“’cause I probably do Ol”

I knew Thomas loved his secrets, but I was totally unaware of his attraction to meddle.

“Ye a bastard, ye know that?” I sneered, “Ye a fucking cunt, Thomas”

He ducked from my second punch and planted one smoothly in the centre of my stomach, doubling me over in pain and sending me careering towards the floor on trembling legs. My knees hit the ground uncommonly hard and pain surged both up my thighs and down into my toes as I grabbed blindly at him, trying to pull him down with me.

He groaned loudly as I caught hold of the hem of his shirt and tugged as hard as I could, the fabric splitting easily between my fingers and the force of my action sending him tumbling.

“Are ye fuckin’ crazy?” He choked breathlessly as I dug my fingernails into his arm, grappling with his legs. “What the fuck are ye doing? I don’t even know what ye problem is, I looked after ‘er I...”

“Ye set ‘er up for a fall Tom. She were expecting me t’ meet ‘er at Warped because of ye stupid little email, an’ I weren’t there ‘cause I never sent the fucking...”

“What email?”

“Ye set ‘er up ye prick” I shouted, trying to catch my breath with his elbow rested against my collarbone. My fist was balled and hovering over him, ready to take another shot. “Ye set us both up, ye...”

“I didn’ do owt Oliver” He argued, wriggling from the grasp of my hands and attempting to roll away. I let my fist fall heavily against his left side, hoping to paralyse him for a brief moment, but instead catching my knuckles painfully on his hipbone. “I saw ‘er at the show, I found ‘er after an’ took ‘er to meet ‘er friend. I didn’...”

“Ye broke her and she thought it were me” I exclaimed, “Ye...”

“It were me”

I let Thomas’ hair fall from where I’d held it clumped in my hand to lie back flat to his head and twisted to see Curtis standing a metre or so away from us. Sheep at his side; eyebrows crooked in confusion and his eyes beneath, wide as saucers and darting between the three men in front of him. “What the fuck are ye doin’ fighting ye brother O...”

“Ye did it?”

He nodded slowly and my stomach churned uncomfortably. In that very moment I ran out of fingers to count the occasions I had wished Curtis Ward dead, in that very moment I decided the kid was dead to me.

“Pack ye shit mate” I mumbled, straightening myself into a sitting position and thrusting a hand toward my brother to help him do the same. Tom took my hand; an uneasy smile tugging at his lips, and pulled himself up and onto his knees. Smoothing the creases of his shirt with his palms and checking out the grass stains that now decorated the light blue fabric.

“This ain’t up to you Ol” Curtis retorted, his confidence wavering along with his voice as I rose to my feet and took the few strides towards him.

Despite him towering over me I felt one hundred feet tall. It was a feeling that always came when I knew that I was right. “Ye were skatin’ on thin ice before mate, it were only a matter o’ time before ye fell through”

“Does speakin’ in riddles make ye think ye a big man?”

“Did makin’ up shit between me and Vee get ye anywhere?”

“I needed t’ check she were okay Ol, It were three years since...she didn’ reply t’ my text again” The fast pace of his words had him stopping and starting, stumbling and tumbling sporadically. “’s not right f’ someone t’ go through that an’ not talk about it. I just thought she migh’ need...Ye the only person she’d drop everything for. Ye the only guy she thinks ‘s worth dropping everythin’ for”

“Three years? What d’ye mean three years? An’ what the fuck did ye think ye could talk to ‘er about that no one else...”

“August thir...”

“Are ye fuckin’ stupid?!” I screeched, everything suddenly falling in place before my eyes. The final pieces of the puzzle forming a picture I didn’t expect, the clues I’d stumbled upon pointing to a culprit I’d not expected. Miss Scarlet,in the Dining Room with the spanner. Curtis Ward, on Warped Tour with hotmail. “Ye’ve gotta be fuckin’ retar...ye did that, ye actually did that?”

My entire body was trembling uncontrollably and I gave in to my fists balling and un-balling rapidly at my sides.

“Ol, I thought that...”

“No thought goes into somethin’ that fuckin’ stupid Curtis” I seethed, “What part of ye decided it were a good idea? Ye know ‘ow much ye fuckin’ destroyed ‘er? An’ I aint fuckin’ surprised mate, three years after she...” I still hadn’t perfected saying it out loud; I was still, really, yet to do so. “Three years after she aborted our baby, ye thought it’d be a good idea t’ meet up with ‘er. To pretend t’ be me...stand ‘er up, make ‘er think that...”

“I never intended t’ stand ‘er up Ol, I got caught up, I...”

“I can’t look at ye” I spat, “Ye make me feel sick, ye...”

“Ye think I felt any differen’ when I watched ye cheat on ‘er? She were the best thing about ye Ol, and ye were the worst thing about ‘er. ‘m not the one that broke ‘er heart in the first place, ‘m not the one to blame”

My mouth fell open; almost to the floor, and it lolled open and closed like a fish on dry land. The audacity, the cheek of it...

“Pack ye shit, and leave. Before I fuckin’ kill ye”

“’m not goin’ anywhere. ‘s my band too, ‘s...”

“Sheep” I stated simply, “Ye either get this cunt away from me, away from the band, or ye can be the one to explain why ‘s no vocalist an’ the ex guitarist is eatin’ ‘is meals through a fuckin’ straw”

“Ye can’ just kick me out Oliver, ‘s not ye decision, ‘s...”

“ ‘e just did mate”

I felt Thomas’ hands rest on either of my shoulders and begin steering me back towards the bus, quiet ‘s’aright Ol’s passing his lips and his grip on me loosening as the tension in my body seeped away. I felt exhausted, I felt drained, I felt as though I was barely alive.

“Ye need to tell me where she is Tommy” I whispered as he pulled the door to the bus open and I stumbled inside. “I need her”