Heartaches Knocking on Her Door

[Helsinki Finland, November 17, 2014]

The memory of her eyes, twinkling with tears as she had yelled and cried before him projected onto closed lids. That tragic beauty he could and would never forget. He smiled to himself as his body began to awaken after his mind.

The tears, the screams, that was yesterday, he thought, taking a deep breath, today, today I’ll show her. There’s nothing to fear, she never had anything to fear. I’ve loved her with all of me, I’ve needed her with all of me, she made the nightmares go away too. I need her. And she’s here.

She’s back.

A happy tear slipped from his closed lids as he opened them.

The white glow of a snowy morning shone through his window, a beacon.

He turned, looking for her, but she wasn’t there. His disheveled blanket lay in her place, empty. His eyes searched the room lazily, she wasn’t in the washroom at the other end. Getting up he pulled on a pair of dark plaid pajama bottoms found lying on the ground, and set out to find her, unworried.

He crept over to the studio across the hall, but it was still, stagnant, empty; she wasn’t there either.

[Music Recommendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWnbktgrD-k ]

“Liv!” He called, his deep voice echoing off the stone walls of the tower. Only silence followed.

He dipped back into his room, pulling a black sweater off the floor and pulling it on before making his way up the winding stairs to the roof, where long ago they had sat in the warmth of the sun, enveloped by the harmony of fall acoustics.

All that he found was a layer of undisturbed snow which trickled down through the hatch door, melting on the floor.

Ville’s heart began beating faster, the type of heartbeat you can feel, really feel, as if the rhythm were a jackhammer on your chest. She must just be in the kitchen, or the backyard having a smoke.
He descended the stairs two at a time in a partial rush. Worry beginning to set in.The living room was empty, as was the kitchen. No coffee mug or opened newspaper, no indicators that she had sat or had breakfast. His heart dropped.

“Liv!” He yelled again. His rapid succession of breaths echoing in the empty house was the only reply as panic began to set in.

No.

She didn’t.

He rushed to the sliding door that led to the backyard, a puddle of melted snow in front of it. He slid it open violently, stepping out into the snow with bare feet searching, searching for her.

“Liv!”

Suddenly something sharp cut into the bare sole of his foot, and his eyes sprang down, locking onto the pile of broken glass and frames. He’d thrown them out a long time ago in an angry drunken fit. Tearing the pictures off his wall, violently throwing them down on the kitchen floor, watching with angry delight as the glass shattered. He’d bought them to torture himself with her art, but that night he’d found her letter. Crumpled, taped together, the writing barely legible from being handled too much. He’d thought he’d lost it.

The pile was uncovered by snow, spread out, not as he had left it.

She’d seen.

“Fuck” He yelled, face turning red, arms clenching with frustration.

No, no she didn’t do it. She didn’t do this to me again.

He sucked in short breaths, body shaking with uncontrolled anger, fingertips numbing.

Suddenly in one quick motion his fist collided with the thick glass of the sliding door, cracking a hole into it and slicing open the skin on his knuckles.

Ignoring the glass strewn everywhere, the cut on his foot, the stream of blood flowing from his knuckles, he stormed inside. Finding his cell phone in the kitchen he dialed her number, blood leaking onto the screen.

He pulled off his sweater, wrapping it around his hand as he waited impatiently for her to pick up.
But she didn’t.

The phone rang until it went to voicemail.

“How dare you! How dare you do this to me again! Leave without a word. Did what I said yesterday mean nothing? Don’t you fuckin understand Liv! I love you, despite everything you may dislike about yourself, despite the troubles we’ve had, despite everything, I love you!” He began heaving with sobs as his anger turned to grief. “We aren’t the same! We've learned haven't we? I thought we did but it looks like I was wrong!” He held the phone away from himself as his body convulsed in tears, no words able to escape. Briefly gathering himself between heaves he continued. “I forgave you once Liv, I forgave you because it was both of our faults, I forgave you cause in spite of it all I don’t want to lose you but I can’t take it anymore! The least you could have done was said goodbye…” His voice died off as he calmed down, silence over the line as he struggled for words. “bye” he whispered before hanging up.

He slid down the counter onto the floor of the kitchen, trembling. Over the past year he'd yearned for some sort of closure, in any form, something, anything to grasp at, to cling on to in the moments he felt like he was falling, but this, he'd never imagined it like this. He brought his knees up to his chest, curling himself in a ball, this relationship, he thought, it died as it had lived, with passion, tears, and anger.

**********************************************

[March 1st, 2017, Los Angeles, US]

[Music recommendation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16ptWIZ36F4 ]

Liv slung her beach bag over her shoulder, hip checked the car door, and strolled towards the boardwalk, camera hanging from her neck.

She closed her eyes enjoying the weak sun warming her face as the wind billowed around her, enveloping her in the aromas of the ocean. The roar of waves and wind in the palm trees creating a background hum as children laughed, families chatted, and rap music blasted from nearby speakers.

It had been a long time since she'd had a day off, a day completely to herself, and so Liv had driven down from her small apartment in LA to Venice Beach to bask in the sensory overload of the bustling spot, enjoying the happy chaos around her for it gave her mind respite from the never-ending stream of work thoughts.

It only took her a few steps before the lense cap slipped into her bag and the camera was held in her hands, documenting the beauty of the urban scenery all around. She drifted along with the crowds, taking shots of the colorful characters before finally kicking off her sandals and making her way through the warm sand towards the ocean.

Finally, Liv sighed as the ocean winds blew her hair around her face. She pulled out a blanket from her beach bag and laid it out on the sand. She flicked the sunglasses from atop her head over her eyes, digging her bare feet in to the beach until she felt the cool wet sand beneath, and tucked her arms beneath her head.

Her wavy black curls created a halo around her head, goosebumps forming beneath the lilac crocheted sweater she wore over a black maxi dress.

What should I wear tonight, I haven't really had a chance to dress up in a while.

I hope Quinton isn't too late.

Where did I put my old jacket with the buttons.

I should call dad, see if he found that part for his motorcycle he was looking for, maybe I can search online for him.

Grandpas birthday is coming up, do I have any old photos of us that I can frame and gift him.

Her thoughts wandered with ease, but it wasn't long before the moment of tranquility was interrupted by the notes of a familiar tune, Wolf Moon. Liv flipped on her stomach, grumbling to herself, should have left this damn thing at home. She answered it, staring towards the boardwalk, admiring the colors of the passersbys.

"Hello?"

"Liv, it's John." Came the familiar gruff voice of her former mentor, she could hear the smile on his lips over the line.

Laughing she sat up, crossing her legs beneath her, "John! How have you been? I didn't recognize the number."

"Calling off of my office phone for once. Honestly this space gets very little use." Liv smiled, she knew the feeling, she herself barely stepped foot in her home office these days. "But anyways I called to ask a bit of a favor."

It has been a while since Liv had actually had the time to work with John. These days it felt like she was being pulled in all directions with work, and she loved it, she loved every second of the frenzied running around because it meant everyday she was fulfilling her dream. A short tour here, a festival there, an interview, an award show. Where the music was, so was she, tucked behind her lens documenting the moments that fans adored and magazines coveted.

She raised her brow, it was odd that John needed a favor from her, as if she could do something he couldn't. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to tame it as the wind picked up, "Go on."

He sighed on the other end, sensing her amused hesitation. "Well, there are rumors going around the office today about a big scoop, and of course there will be a public announcement on all social media but Metal Hammer wants to be the first to touch base with them. They haven't done much press lately, and someone over with them contacted us about an idea, a photoshoot, and you could maybe even conduct the interview since you've got a personal connection with band…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Liv laughed, already imagining ways to fit whatever John wanted in to her busy schedule, I've got a gallery opening tonight I need to attend, a photoshoot tomorrow, but I've got a few days after that I can clear up. "I can probably make it work, but who exactly are you talking about John, I've made a few personal connections over the years." And it was true, of the more recent, and bigger names she could count as an acquaintance was Chelsea Wolfe, who she was introduced to after a recent show in San Francisco.

"Right, sorry. It's HIM, Ville Valo and the guys. I know you haven't worked with them in a while but I thought you could make an exception, for me if anyone. It would just be a fantastic perspective, you got your career started with them and now they're breaking up and here you are to interview them some four odd years later."

"Wait, I'm sorry what?" It was as if Johns words had been in gibberish, all of them but a single name. Ville Valo, it tumbled through her mind with it’s sharp edges but soft syllables. It would be a lie to say that name hadn't been in her mind, paired with a set of piercing green eyes since the day she had fled his tower, a scared young women too weak to revisit old wounds. Thoughts of memories long past sporadically slipping in to her mind over the years, but the cold sweat, the bottom lip gnawing, the shaking fingertips, and rapid breaths, they no longer accompanied these memories as they once had. Her hand subconsciously moved to her heart to feel the sudden increase in rhythm however. "John, are you saying HIM are breaking up?" That doesn't sound right, she thought, a breakup, that is just too inadequate a phrase.

"I am. I don't know much more than that. And this interview/photoshoot wasn't my idea, I'm just the messenger, but their manager has already had the idea run by him and he's on board."

She had a million questions, what happened, are they alright, why now, what happened to the album Ville had been working on. She opened her mouth to speak but no words seemed to come out. This was a favor to John, this was an homage to the band that started her career, this was a thank you to them and the fans. This was so much, and yet she was hesitant, not to open up old wounds, no, she'd learned to accept those wounds as a part of her, just like her visible scars from that time. I guess, she thought as she hugged her sweater closer, I, I guess… Her thoughts trailed off because there was no conclusion, there was no reason to hesitate, just a sensation in her gut like a worm wriggling out of the dirt, uncomfortable but harmless.

Shit, I haven't said anything in a while, reply Liv. "Uh John, I'm on board, I'm even picturing doing this up in Finland, maybe Lapland, wild career and wild terrain type thing, but I think I need a little time to think. Is that alright?" Her bottom lip slid between her teeth. I'll probably say yes, I just, just need time to think about it. And I thought this would be a relaxing day.

"Of course! I'll need to know by tomorrow though cause we'll need to arrange flights and accommodation and your gear and…"

Liv chuckled, shaking her head with amusement at Johns excitement, he never failed to surprise her with his passion for the business, "I know I know! Don't worry, I'll get back to you as soon as I sort some stuff out." Stuff? What's there to sort out?

"Of course. I'll talk to you tomorrow then. And uh, sorry if I was the one to break the news, you know, of the breakup and sorry to even ask this favour." She could hear the sincerity in his voice. He never really knew why she'd ended up on his doorstep that chilly day in November, but she knew he'd had his suspicions.

She lay back down on her blanket, bringing her knees up, free hand clutching her cardigan closer as the beach began to accelerate even more, bringing with them light gray clouds that threatened to block the beaming winter sun. "John it's really alright, I've been out of the loop, plus this, this gig would be fantastic, it would mean a lot to so many. I'll ring you tomorrow." She ended the call, clutching her phone to her chest as she watched the puffs of gray float by overhead.

****************************************************

She flipped open the mirror she had dug out from her small mustard colored purse. Holding it up with one hand she flipped off the cap of her red lipstick with the other, slowly and carefully swiping the rouge across her lips. Liv gave herself a once over, or at least trying to from where she sat in the front seat of her black Beatle. Lipstick, check. Purse and wallet, check. Descently put together outfit, she had put on a blazer dress with silver accenting, braless, her lean legs taking centre stage, check. Shoes, she wore simple black heels with a strap running across the ankle and a chunky heel, check. Hair, she fluffed her dark curls with her fingertips, watching as the strands moved, like a curtain pulling back to show the scar on her temple, check, I guess.

She excitedly stepped out of the car, her heels making that familiar, comforting sound on the asphalt as she locked her car and speed walked towards the small venue. Outside stood a relaxed looking bouncer, checking names on a list and letting people out for smoke breaks.

A smile streaked across Livs face as she spotted Marcus waiting for her. His caramel skin glowing in the light of the streetlamp above, his curly hair grown long at the top and cut short on the sides. He wore a dark gray sport coat over a maroon dress shirt and black pants. Liv almost laughed, it had been a long time since she'd seen him dressed up.

"So handsome!" She giggled as she opened her arms to embrace Marcus in a hug.

He hugged her before pulling back and doing a flamboyant spin, "You really like it? I've been in sweats at home with the kids so long I was afraid I'd forgotten how to dress."

Liv laughed, locking her arm around Marcus's and guiding him towards the bouncer, "How does Hanna like her new job?”

She slid her ID over to the bouncer with painted black nails, slipping it back into her purse as they were waved in to the gallery.

Marcus beamed, “She loves it. She’s worried about leaving me alone at home with the girls all the time but hey, I work from home, it’s the best option, and I would never want to hold her back. I sort of love it actually.” He chuckled, eyes alight with the joy of fatherhood.

The gallery was awash with the low murmur of contemplative patrons as they gazed upon the collection hanging from the shaded walls. Walking around the multi-room gallery were waiters in red vests, carrying glasses of red and white wine.

Marcus grabbed a glass of white and Liv a glass of red as they entered the throng of well dressed people.

“Thanks for taking me out tonight though. I love em all to death but I’v missed your stupid face.” He took a sip before turning to Liv with a toothy, sarcastic grin.

Liv rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah, no problem, I’ve missed your stupid face too.” She gently nudged him as they made their way over to the nearest wall where a single frame hung, the image within depicting an infant skull surrounded by dull roses and menacing spiders, painted with a black background and adorned within a glimmering gold frame. "Also thank Kat, she always seems to know the best openings or shows that I wouldn’t necessarily hear about. I swear, the woman is on a mission to fill me with as much LA culture as she can.”

The exhibition around them was a celebration of American artist Kevin Llewellyn. Although he'd first opened for Kats Wonderland LA gallery, his works had grown and needed more space to be appreciated. Kat had called Liv the previous week, inviting Liv in her place since she was unable to make it, something about a prayer and a date. Living in LA it had been all too easy for Liv and Kat to remain friends, a gallery opening, a new vegan restaurant, a concert, there was always something new in the city that they could enjoy together.

Liv and Marcus began meandering to the next wall, peeking over the close pressed bodies already gazing at the work of art at the heart of the otherwise naked wall. She ran her eyes over the deep shadows and brilliant highlights of the piece, her mind inevitably thinking about Johns call. Can I really just do that? See them again and act as if everything that had happened never really happened? Would I apologize? Do they know I've been asked to do this?

"Is something the matter?" Marcus asked as they began to move to the next work, sipping their wine.

Liv shrugged, "I don't think so, why do you ask?" She took another small sip of the sweet red wine, adjusting her dress so her nipple didn't make a surprise appearance.

Marcus gave a knowing smirk, "Well, you're biting your lip, so that's a dead giveaway that something is up." They turned a corner in the gallery in to a secluded room in low light, miniature charcoal sketches fixed upon each of the four walls.

Liv sighed, I'm not exactly worrying about this, just, mulling it over. She looked over at Marcus, he was waiting for her response. Knowing him he would definitely have an opinion or two. "Well, so, I got a call about a gig. HIM is breaking up and Metal Hammer wants me to do some exclusive piece on the whole thing." She shrugged, "Not sure there's any reason to say no, but I don't know, I feel weird about it." She hid her face behind her glass of wine, watching as Marcus digested what she was telling him.

He opened his mouth to speak but then shut it, as if adjusting what he had planned to say. "Of course you feel weird, you're being asked to work with your ex."

Liv thought about it for a second, fingernail tapping against the empty wine glass in her hand. "You think that's it?" He made it sound, so, so simple, but it also made a lot of sense. Sometimes amidst the memories of passion and loss she really did forget that at its core what she had had was a relationship.

"Yeah, unless you don't want to see him or are afraid of old stuff being brought up." Liv could see the remembrance in his eyes, twinkling in the lowlights of the gallery.

She pursed her lips, tuning in the hum of voices throughout the gallery, welcoming the small distraction. "I don't think that's what it is Marcus, with the uh, old stuff. I can't really explain it, I don't feel scared of him, if that makes sense. Maybe I'm a little embarrassed about how things were when I last saw him but, I don't know, I've moved on enough that I guess you're right, it's just that awkward moment you bump into your ex on the street or something, but instead of the street it's a job opportunity."

"And instead of an ex it's a Finnish sex god." Marcus smirked.

Liv shot him a look of mock annoyance before rolling her eyes. "After all these years and you're still on that eh?" She let out a small chuckle as they left the secluded room and reentered the throng of patrons admiring the larger pieces.

"Hey now, I loved the man way before you ever did, and if I'm being honest I really hope you do this gig, if not for yourself then so you can grab me some tickets for the farewell tour I'm sure they're going to have." He gave her a toothy grin as he took her empty glass from her and gave it to a waiter along with his own.

Liv tucked a loose strand of ebony behind her ear, "Yeah yeah yeah, you'll get your tickets." She eyed the crowds looking for a waiter with food, stomach way too empty for the small glass of wine she had. She didn't drink often these days and the sweet red was already being felt in the form of small tingles in her arms and a slight haze in her head.

Suddenly Marcus nudged her, pointing across the gallery. "Speaking of moving on, here comes Quinton."

Through a small crowd of well dressed attendees emerged a tall man with wavy, ear length, blonde hair. His blue eyes locked on Liv, an enigmatic smile flashing across his handsome face bellow a well groomed mustache. He wore a pair of tight fitting dark gray jeans, tucked in to them was a black, short sleeved button up shirt.

He grabbed Liv around the waste with one hand, cupping her cheek with the other, pulling her into a deep, and a little too aggressive in public, kiss. He pulled back with an audible sound, like the sound one makes on a hot day after drinking a cool glass of water. "Liv honey! I've been looking everywhere for you."

**************************************************

The moonlight streamed in through her large, glass balcony doors, casting her bedroom in shadows. She sat, back leaning against the headboard, knees raised up, feet tucked under the covers. She looked over towards the red glow of her alarm clock, 2AM. Have I really been up for that long?

"Liv baby, is something wrong?"

"Hmm?" Tangled in the blankets beside her, bare chest exposed, head leaning on one hand, eyes barely open, lay Quinton.

Her rubbed his eyes in the moonlight, "Something bothering you babe?"

She'd met Quinton a few months ago at a small shoot she'd done for Jim Somers for some new Black Craft releases. Quinton had been one of the models. He was kind, gentle mannered, a little vain, but had overall been pleasant company as they'd dated, and recently begun to see each other more seriously. He was easy, the relationship was easy, it was seamless and linear, and that’s why Liv enjoyed it.

She rubbed his arm, "Just having trouble sleeping, go back to bed." She watched as he blew her a kiss then turned around, nuzzling deeper beneath the covers.

Carefully, so as not to disturb him she got up off the bed, phone in hand, grabbing her black robe where it lay draped across a small chair. She dug through one of her purses on the floor, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and crept in the moonlight towards the balcony. The balcony door slid open with a creek, Liv turned, checking Quinton was still asleep before stepping out into the cool night, bathed in the dull night light. She closed the door behind her. She took a seat in the worn wicker chair, tucking her knees up towards her chest and hugging the robe close like a blanket around her.

She stared out at the twinkling lights of the city below then pulled out her phone. She'd been turning the idea around in her head all night and found that it was the only way for her to feel comfortable enough to accept the job offer.

****************************************************

Ville sat at the edge of a small park on a bench, bicycle on it's side next to him in the grass. A worn copy of Lord Byron's complete works dangling from his hand, index finger tucked inside, marking his place as he stared off at the breeze dancing in nearby trees, the tune of an unfamiliar song stuck in his throat. The park was completely empty aside from him. He was bundled up in a black jacket and black beanie, red scarf protecting his neck from the icy breeze. The weather in Helsinki had yet to warm as winter slowly ended, but that wouldn’t stop him as he sought mental solace away from home, in the elements.

Suddenly he felt the familiar sensation of his godforsaken phone vibrating in his pocket. "vitun tekniikka (fucking technology)" he whispered under his breath.

He almost dropped the phone as he saw the name displayed on the screen. His heart gave a small tinge of sadness. Should I throw the phone towards the frozen pond or answer it, he mused pessimistically before breaking out in a small, deep chuckle, and I thought this day couldn't get any stranger. He swiped the screen, answering the call, unsure of what he had gotten himself into. "Liv?"

"Hi, Ville?” Her voice sounds exactly as he had remembered, soft, girlish, and a little raspy. “Sorry if I'm bothering you but John, John Mcmurtrie, gave me a call earlier today about working with you guys for a piece on the uh, breakup, career conclusion whole thing."

He almost laughed, her words were coming out in a hurried jumble. He could almost imagine how her face must look on the other end, eyes wide, brows raised, teeth threatening to gnaw down on that lower lip as he’d seen her do so many times. Needless to say, he was amused. "Yes, and have you accepted?"

There was a brief pause on the other end. "Oh, you knew?"

He understood her confusion. He himself was hesitant of the idea at first. Mige had thought of it when the band had last met the previous week to decide the best course of action to announce the end of their time together. At the time he hated the idea, why dredge the pond if you know you'll only pull up a corpse, but as he'd thought about it all more and more, he couldn't deny that Livs time with the band had been special, that her talent was impressive, that she was the perfect person to tell their final story, and that that corpse he imagined wasn't there anymore, like their relationship it had lived, died, and returned to the cosmos; he had nothing to fear, he would see an old friend and colleague once again. "I did yes, it was Mige's notion and the rest of us gave the green light. Although, Liv, I will say I wasn't really expecting a call, I imagined you would get in touch with Seppo to go over ideas and the like." In the distance he heard the low rumble of thunder. He got up, dog earing the book and tossing it in his black backpack, before grabbing his bike and beginning to walk it out of the park, unwilling to bike in the rain.

He could hear the sizzle of a deep, long, drag through the line before she finally spoke, her voice soft and unsure, "I guess the thing is, I just wanted to make sure you were uh, okay with it."

Ville was taken aback. Strange, he thought, I supposed I'd been feeling the exact same way. He hadn't really been able to put his finger on it, after he'd accepted the plain fact that the past was truly the past, and that despite it all he'd missed her company in any capacity, he still had a nagging sensation within him, buried deep within some 9th circle inside of himself. Yet here she was, putting it in simple words, I imagine I'd wondered if she felt the same way, if this was something she would want to do as well. "Dar...Liv, I am if you are. The past is forgiven and forgotten on my end, this project is something I look forward to, but," he hesitated, his words faltering in his mouth, "only if you feel the same way."

Thunder rolled again in the distance, closer now.

“I uh, I do.” She spoke more confidently, more assuredly.

He wasn’t sure what to say now, his amusement from earlier fading. He hadn’t talked to her in over three years. He thought he would be bitter if he ever saw, worked, or talked to her ever again. He thought he’d yell and curse her existence for torturing him in such heartache. He thought about many things, but never had he imagined just a lukewarm reunion of sorts. “Well then I look forward to working with you.” Idiotic way to end the conversation.

The line suddenly cut out as she hung up.

He looked down at the phone in his hand, honestly stunned at the lack of emotion in the conversation between them, not quite sure what to think of the whole thing. There had been so much bubbling rage and passion that night in his tower, the last time they’d seen each other, in the throes of a burning, toxic love. We must be somewhere where that passion no longer exists, where time has done its job, where we can talk now as acquaintances without feeling the festoring sting of memories in the exchange of words. He thought back to what he had been reading earlier, Don Juan, to a particular line of the epic poem that had been stuck on the tip of his tongue, the heart will break but broken live on.