Love in Theory and Practice: Chapters 1-13

After a few hours of snuggling etc, Ville and I begin to get ready for the show. I fix my makeup and tighten up my curls. I change from my travel clothes to a more appropriate concert outfit. Ville just puts on his regular clothes and washes his face.

We head off towards downtown Helsinki around 5:30pm. I have to admit I feel rather silly for not having known it would be a HIM concert earlier. Isak, Bo, and Kiira meet us at the backstage entrance and spend time in the dressing room with the band and me before they go on stage.

I am happy to see all the guys again. I finally get to meet all the wives, girlfriends and children they all bubbled about during their time in Los Angeles. A few minutes before the show, we head out onto the main floor. I’ve never seen a HIM show and my brothers insisted that I see it from the crowd perspective before I become a fixture on the side of the stage.

Even before the band comes on, the energy of the crowd can only be described as electric. The people combined feels less like individual beings and more like a pulsing mass. Unfortunately I’m claustrophobic in crowds so I only spend a few moments near the main floor section.

Just as the lights dim, we relocate to a more open space with a good view. I settle onto a bar stool and order a diet coke. The opening music begins and the crowd begins to spring to life. Camera lights appear in the darkness along with lit screens of cell phones.

Ville looks happy in a way I’ve never seen when he strides on stage. The crowd screams loudly and he smiles widely. He talks to the crowd as if they are all friends he’s known for years. He chats casually with the band members and laughs heartily at his own jokes.

When the music begins, he performs with an energy I’ve only seen from him in one other location: the bedroom. My cheeks blush pink when I think of it. My brothers sing along loudly with their arms around each other’s shoulders.

Pride, happiness, and possessiveness all surge through me among other emotions as Ville performs. I feel like my chest and heart are inflating with love when I see him on stage. It’s an entirely new side of him that I am overjoyed to experience.

To add my overwhelming joy, Callie and Bam drop in just after the 2nd song. We squeal and hug each other; Bam jokes that we are probably audible over the band’s music. She tells me in my ear that they’d planned the surprise with Ville and were late because they’d fallen asleep in their hotel room. She winks and I know it wasn’t the kind of sleep when you dream.

Towards the end of the show, however, Ville’s performance turns from lovely to rather bittersweet. He had so far refused to allow me to hear any of the material recorded for Screamworks and when he announces that they will be performing new songs, I am both excited and hurt. Was I not special enough to hear them before the entire audience at Helldone?

My brothers, Callie and Bam are all rapt with eager attention but I struggle with feelings of betrayal and hurt. Yes, I am being ridiculous but I’d let him read my entire 35 page article on drapery in Greek and Roman sculpture before publishing it because he’d wanted to read it. So why did I not deserve the same respect?

“These new songs are about a lovely woman I met recently and fell completely all over myself for. She’s going to be mad that she hasn’t heard them yet but it’s only because I’m afraid she’ll hate them. She’s a trained critical thinker.” He laughs his usual chuckle before beginning the first song. “This one is called ‘Heartkiller.’” My eyes widen in shock and surprise. “Heartkiller?” Is he referring to me? I’m not sure how being a heart killer can be a nice thing.

Bo, Isak, Kiira, Callie and Bam all turn to look at me. I just smile and shrug off my surprise as the music begins. Even as he begins with the first few lines, I am immediately glad that I only purchase waterproof mascara or else there would be lines and streaks of black down my cheeks.

Callie hugs me tightly when the song finishes. Ville looks around nervously, almost as if he’s expecting some horrendous response. But he moves on to the next song after only a brief pause. “This next one is called ‘Love, the Hardest Way.’” He smiles and the band begins.

“I don’t know if I can handle another one.” I laugh but Ville begins singing anyway. The song mentions Baudelaire and I smile to myself, both because of the dog and because we always read Baudelaire together before bed.

“Ah, he loves you.” Callie says into my ear. Kiira overhears and nods vigorously in agreement.

“What a beautiful song.” Kiira says dreamily. “And to think, it’s about you!”

When the song ends Ville blabs on for a few minutes about the album release and about how he expects everyone in the audience to buy a copy so he can retire to California. I shake my head and laugh. “This last song is called ‘Scared to Death.’ I hope you like it.”

“He’s going to be the death of me.” I say quietly before the music starts. “I wish I was still a drinker.” I joke. Callie punches me lightly in the arm and wags her finger at me.

For some reason in that moment of talking, I realize that the backdrop of the stage is drapery and I laugh out loud, surprising Callie. She looks at me, puzzled but I just wave her off. My laugh actually manages to carry through the venue during Ville’s speech. I think he may have actually heard it.

When he sings the line about pick up lines, Isak leans in to me. “So did he actually have to use pick-up lines or were you just hooked without them?” he jokes and pinches my cheek that is still a bit damp with tears. I just punch him right back.

“He was just so good in bed…” I whisper in Isak’s ear. He makes a disgusted face at me but then breaks into a smile.

“I’ll bet he’s more imaginative than Nils.” He says with a thoughtful look on his face.

“That’s enough talk about my love life.” I laugh and ruffle Isak’s hair.

Before the song is over, I grab my things and make a break for the backstage door. I notice several young girls (hell, they’re probably about my age) give me dirty looks when I flash my pass and slip through the door.

I quickly take a spot beside Seppo and wait for Ville to exit the stage. He smiles widely when he sees me but there is some uncertainty on his face. I quickly dispel it by jumping into his arms. His shirt is as warm as his skin and his hair in hot from the lighting. His happy energy from performing almost seems to transfer through his arms into me.

“Well?” He asks huskily. His voice is worn and tired from singing. It’s the same voice he has during sex. Rough, heavy and raspy.

Without a word of reply I grab his face and place my lips on his. I feel his smile on my lips and he tightens his grip on me. When we pull apart he notices the tears.

“You weren’t supposed to cry. Was it that terrible?” he asks, placing me back on my feet. He gently reaches up and wipes the tears off my face.

“It was beautiful. I’m a terribly sentimental over beautiful things even if I am a trained critical thinker.” I tease and wrap my arm around his waist. He flings his arm over my shoulder and we head back to the dressing room to meet up with the others.

Everyone asks me what I thought of my first HIM concert and we all talk about what can be expected from the upcoming tour. But as the talk turns towards how long they’ll be on the road, Ville’s face begins to fall along with those of the wives that will be left behind.

It is then, when I see him toying with the hem of his sleeve, not participating in the conversation that I make my mind. I’ll go along on tour if they’ll have me. The idea of spending the rest of the winter in Helsinki alone is devastating; add in the idea of being without Ville for months and it would be hell.

“So, darling,” he begins as I’m pulling off my shoes and coat at his front door. I look up at him expectantly. “My mother wants to meet you.” He rushes through the words and I almost don’t understand them.

“Oh well that works.” I smile. He looks taken aback but smiles anyway. “My Pappa wants to meet you. He’s coming for New Years.” He just shakes his head and laughs.

“Should we get it all over with in one go then?” he jokes. I pull my socks out from under my jeans and pull them over.

“Yes, please.” I say and flop down on the sofa. I pull my favorite sweatshirt off the back of the sofa and pull it over my head. My hair flies off in funny directions but I ignore it and slide down along the arm and snuggle into the cushions.

I pull my book out of my purse that’s tucked under the coffee table. I work the paperback pages into a curl and pull out the bookmark. After a few moments I can smell coffee. Ville comes in with two cups, leaving them on the table he begins to light a fire in the grate.

Instantly the flickering light of the fire falls on the pages of my book and Ville’s skin. His normally pale complexion is warmed and some of the deeper features of his face are thrown into shadow.

“What are you staring at love?” he asks with a deep chuckle when he catches me looking at him.

“Oh, just you. Nothing important really.” I tease. He lifts my hand to read that back cover of my book but immediately drops it back down.

“Of course, a book that looks good would be in Swedish.” He says with a joking pout.

I tell him the concept of the story and the relation to the first novel. We decide to look for it in Finnish the next time we’re out. He pulls out a book of his own from between the cushion. He laces his legs with mine and settles into the space on the other side of the sofa. That’s one wonderful thing about being at home with Ville. He hides books in all kinds of nooks and crannies.

The heat from the fire, the comfort of the coffee and the close proximity to Ville calms my mind, body and spirit. We read for hours and around 2:30am we both agree to go to bed.

After brushing our teeth and washing our faces, we fall into bed. Ville falls asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow. As I watch his chest rise and fall and the subtle movement of his face while he sleeps, I feel the same swelling in my heart I’d felt during the concert.

It’s a combination of pride, love, and fascination. He’s a wonder to me. He is a creature that lives and breathes to create music. I can’t imagine what he would have been if not a musician. But while his passion is focused on music, his mind and his desire to learn lead him to places far removed from music itself; religion, literature, symbolism, and theory.

I sigh and lean back into my pillow. I know then, in that moment that I am going to marry him. I can’t describe what makes me certain but somehow I know.