Heartaches Knocking on Her Door

“Now if everybody could please buckle their seat belts and keep them buckled until the overhead light indicates otherwise. We should be taking off shortly. Thank you.”

Ville shuffled in his seat uncomfortably. The small plane was cramped, and not what he needed after the almost sleepless night he had just had. He rubbed his face tiredly, feeling slight stubble. He didn’t know why he hadn’t been able to sleep, after the show he’d been so exhausted, but as he had lain in bed sleep refused to envelope him, thoughts had kept circulating around, faces wouldn’t go away, tragically beautiful ones.

“It’s only a short flight over to San Francisco my boy. You can rest when we arrive.” Seppo said, leaning over to Ville, who he sat next to.

Ville nodded. It’s unlike he wasn’t use to waking up early, flying around, touring. I’ll manage, he told himself. He sat next to Seppo, who had the window seat, while he had the isle. Linde and Burton sat in front of him, and Gas and Mige behind.

Soon the plane began to rumble as it sped across the tarmac. He couldn’t use his phone until the stewardess gave the okay, and he had forgotten to pack his copy of Cold Print in his carry on, so Ville looked around for some way to pass the short flight. He suddenly smiled as her remembered what he did pack in his carry on. He pulled out Liv’s camera from his messenger bag and held it up triumphantly. This should do the trick, he smiled.

He’d forced himself the other night not to go through the camera, at least not past the pictures from the show, it would be an invasion of privacy, he had told himself. The camera now was too tempting for Ville. I’ll find a way to return it to her, he thought to himself, remembering how lovely Liv had looked at the concert, like a lost child in the woods. He wondered what she was wearing today, if she had realized she’d left her camera behind.

Quickly going through the pictures from the concert, ones which he had seen numerous times, having gone through them a lot the other night, he finally found Liv’s other shots. Beautiful, utterly beautiful, he mused.

Ville went through the camera in utter amazement. There were beautiful nature shots in what appeared to be some meadow littered with lavender. There were sombre black and white portraits of Marcus. There were shots from another concert. She must do photography, Ville thought to himself as he continued through the camera. Suddenly he stopped however and quickly covered the screen.

Would it be inappropriate if I took a better look? No, no I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t even be looking at these pictures, Ville internally debated. Peering around he made sure no one was watching him and slowly uncovered the screen. It was a black and white photo of Liv, naked. Oh god what are you doing Ville, he asked himself as he took a better look. The picture looked as if it had been done with a timer, not taken by anyone else. Liv was against a white wall, her head gracefully thrown back, chin in the air, hair tumbling down her bare shoulders, skimming her small rounded breasts. The silhouette of her shadow against the wall framed her pale body. The picture only showed her belly button up, but what a picture it was. Liv’s ribs showed as her body stretched, eyes closed, lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Her face looked sombre, sad. The picture reminded Ville of when he had first seen her, unconscious in the hospital, tragically beautiful.

Ville sat looking at the picture for a few moments, utterly enthralled by Liv’s beauty, until his inner voice stopped him. You are quite the perv aren’t you? The girl can’t be over 25! Ville shook himself of the thought and continued through the pictures, there were no others of Liv.

***

It was only 10 a.m. by the time the band had landed in San Francisco.

Ville sat on the large queen sized bed in his hotel room, luggage half hazzardly placed on the ground, beanie and sweater discarded. The sheets of his bed were a dull color, as were the walls. It was all dull. A TV sat across the bed, bathroom to the left of it. He tried resting, but sleep wouldn’t come. There was an idea forming deep in the folds of his mind, but he couldn’t fish it out. He lay thinking about photography, about earlier tours. After a few moments Ville suddenly sat up and dialed Seppo’s cell.

“Hello, is everything alright with the room?” He answered in his thick accent.

“Oh it is fine. I just wanted to ask, do you remember Pascalle? She was the fan that went around with us, taking candid’s and professional shots, using the candid’s for fan websites and sharing the profits of the professional pictures with us?” Ville eagerly asked, though the memory of Pascalle was a sad one, she had passed away back in 2005 from a blood clot.

“Yes my boy I remember. What a lovely young woman. May she rest in peace. What about her though?” Seppo curiously asked over the phone.

“Liv, from the other night, her photography was amazing. Quite superb. What if we take her on tour with us and she does what Pascalle did?”

“Oh Ville. I don’t know about this. How would she afford the travel costs. What if she is going to school or has a job. Where would she live between long breaks between shows?” Seppo seemed highly skeptical about the whole situation.

“You did see her work though. It speaks for itself. And if she needs help paying off the travel costs until her work starts selling to magazines than I’ll pitch in.” Seppo is right though, Ville thought, she might have other obligations…but this could really jumpstart her career, she needs this.

“Well than, give her a call. See if she is even available. I’ll admit, we could really use someone like her, now that the website is being updated we need some photo’s to post on it, and I am getting calls from Revolver and Metal Hammer for pictures from the tour… Yes, give her a call and see if she can join us on the tour as soon as possible.”

“Alright.” Ville smiled to himself, quite satisfied, until her realized he didn’t actually have Liv’s number.

“You don’t have the woman’s number, do you” Seppo replied after Ville’s long pause. “I’ll look into it. Do you even know her last name?”

“ah” Ville triumphantly said, “that I do know”

***

“Marcus! Stop packing and help me with this damn lunch! I can’t cook for shit, we should have just ordered take out” Liv yelled over her shoulder as she angrily mushed up the lumpy mashed potatoes she had made. It was her and Marcus’s routine to have a ‘fancy’ lunch every Monday, and since Marcus as moving they had tried to uphold the tradition even more as of late.

“PLEASE DON’T LET IT, PLEASE DON’T LET IT GOOOO” Marcus sang as stuffed his clothes into box’s, blasting Deep Shadows and Brilliant Highlights.

“Ugh” Liv said to herself. She wasn’t much of a cook, though she tried her best. She checked on the chicken she had cooking in the oven, it looks ready?, she thought.

Liv continued preparing lunch, now dancing around the kitchen, still wearing her pajama’s, as Marcus continued blasting music, not helping. She was just setting the table when she heard the volume lower and Marcus appeared in the kitchen doorway. He had actually dressed for the day, unlike Liv, wearing a white Rolling Stones tee with dark jeans. Dark curly hair a mess.

“You know, I’m going to really miss your craptacular cooking” He smirked.

“Yeah well, I’m going to miss your ugly face, now sit down and enjoy this shit meal I made us, alright?” Liv said as she put the chicken on the small, worn, kitchen table they had.

“Tell you what, I’ll help you pack once we are done, on one condition” Marcus said, taking a seat.

“What?” Liv asked skeptically, discarding the oven mitts and sitting down.

“Next time you go to a HIM concert, you fucking get them to sign something for me!” He teased.

“Sorry! Sorry! I was nervous alright, you know me.”

“Ah, unfortunately” Marcus grinned, taking a hesitant bite of the chicken.

Liv rolled her eyes than suddenly got up as she heard the sound of Wolf Moon coming from her bedroom. Grabbing her cell phone she returned to the kitchen to continue lunch. It was a strange number, she never answered strange numbers, but something compelled Liv to answer it anyway.

“Hello?” Liv answered cautiously.

“Greetings, is this Liv? Liv Manning?” Asked a deep, accented voice.

Holy fuck, Liv thought.

“What?” Marcus whispered as he took in Liv’s surprised expression.

She covered her cell, “I think its Ville” She said, slumping into her seat at the table.

“Well freakin say something” Marcus nudged her.

“Uh, yes, hi” Why, why is he calling, how in hell did he get my number, Liv thought, her mind drawing up blanks.

“Hello, it’s Ville” Liv could hear him chuckling over the phone, her confusion having come through in her reply.

“Oh!” Liv suddenly exclaimed. “My camera, you have it right?”

Marcus perked up, forgetting about his meal and leaning his ear up against Liv’s to hear their conversation.

“Yes I do, but I actually called to make a proposition. A deal with the devil if you will. We’d, as in Seppo and myself, would like to take you on as the bands photographer. You would tour with us, taking candid’s and having photo shoots. We would buy some pictures from you to put on the website and of course help you sell the rest of the photo’s to various magazines. You really have a talent my dear and hopefully you do not have any other obligations stopping you from accepting this opportunity. So what do you say?”

Liv paused in utter shock. “Uh, Ville I uh, I can’t, um.”

The phone was suddenly ripped from Liv’s ear by Marcus who immediately retreated to the other end of the table.

“She accepts!” Marcus said to Ville as he ran around the table, away from Liv who angrily darted after him.

“Yes, uhuh, yup. Oh trust me I know, she’ll open up eventually. Hmm yes well she has plenty of money I can assure you and no, she does not have a job right now, and luckily for you she just quit school. Well you’ll have to ask her that yourself. Uhuh, Yes. I can have her packed and ready in a few hours. No, no. Oh I’ll make sure she goes, I’ll drive her there myself. Yes, alright well it has been great talking to you Mr. Valo, Liv would like to graciously thank you for this opportunity. It’s the Fillmore right? Yes alright Bye.” Marcus was out of breath by the time he had hung up. Liv having chased him throughout their small apartment, angrily grasping for the cell while venomously whispering his name.

Liv finally caught up with him, ripping the cell from his hand.

“Marcus! What the hell was that!?” Liv stood looming over Marcus as he sat on their couch, catching his breath.

“You my lucky friend are HIMs new photographer. No need to thank me, no need. You start tonight and are going to tag along for Tears on Tour as a trial run, and if it works out, you travel with them to Europe for all the summer festivals.” Marcus lounged on the couch, a smug expression on his face.

“Marcus I can’t. I’m not even that good of a photographer. I mean, I’m supposed to move in with my grandpa, and what about all my stuff here, and my friends and” Liv’s head began to hurt, and a nervousness began to eat at her stomach.

“Stop, just stop. You are an amazing photographer, good enough to catch the attention of a famous rock star and his manager. Your grandpa won’t mind. You have a bunch of money anyways to pay your way around. I’ll pack up what you can’t bring and put it in a storage locker or something. And really Liv, you don’t have any friends, accept yours truly” Marcus beamed up at Liv. “Now grab your suitcase and start packing, I’ll get together your photography gear. It’s a five hour drive from here to San Fran, so you better hurry your ass up.”

Marcus got up off the couch, giddily going into Liv’s room, pulling out her suitcase.

Liv stood in the living room steaming with anger. Anger which quickly dissipated as Liv began to realize that this unbelievable opportunity was happening to her. She began to gnaw on her lower lip at the thought that she would be traveling the US, and possibly Europe, with a world famous band. That she would be selling her photo’s to magazines. Liv suddenly took a seat as it dawned on her that for the first time in her life she would be living alone, that she would be doing things completely on her own. There had always been someone there to help her make decisions, to be a crutch, her mom, Marcus, but if she went, if she took on this job, than she would be utterly alone, in a completely new environment, that she would have to figure it all out alone. But that’s what adults do though, Liv told herself.

“Stop! I can hear you over thinking in there! Now come help me get you packed up! We need to leave in an hour or so, plus I need to fill up on gas, and you need to go to the bank. Come on!” Marcus called from Liv’s room.

Liv stopped biting her lip and cracked a smile as she slowly made her way to her room. You can do this, she told herself, you can be independent. Liv’s smile widened as she thought about the excitement that touring brought along with it. She crouched down next to Marcus who was stuffing handfuls of clothes into her suitcase.

“Ugh, let me do it.” Liv said, grabbing the clothes from Marcus, who raised his brow. “Yeah yeah I’ll be fast.”

“Alright well I’m going to call Hanna and tell her what’s going on, do you mind if she joins us for the ride?” Marcus asked, getting up.

“Not at all. I’ll try to hurry.” She replied as Marcus left the room.

Liv began folding the clothes Marcus had pulled out of her drawers. She stopped suddenly when she absentmindedly picked up the red sweater she had been wearing the other night. Little red. Liv’s breathing began to pick up as she remembered the way his dark eyes had turned on her in the hallway backstage, as if he really were the big bad wolf, ready to eat her up. Stop, she abruptly told herself, the mans, what, twice your age? She quickly folded up the sweater, tucking it in her suitcase, out of site, heart beating a mile a minute.