Shout the Call

I chased after Aaron but was swiftly pulled back, halfway between the bus and the venue, by an ashen faced Jim.

“No Bea,” he said, almost completely out of breath, “this is something you need to keep out of. Believe me sweet, you’ll thank me for it.”

I shook my head in confusion; what the hell was going on. First Aaron and now Jim who was the only man on this bus who had, up until this point, been nothing but honest with me; that’s how it felt, at least.

“Okay Jim,” I replied, feigning trust. There was no way I was about to brush this (whatever ‘this’ may be) under the table.

Jim rubbed my arm and looked at me apologetically before dashing off.

******

At seven pm I was ushered from the bus to our room backstage which had a fridge full of beer, a basic but clean washroom and toilet, four three seater settees and tea and coffee making facilities. It was far better than I was expecting. At eight fifteen the support band (some local group I had never even heard of but who sounded amazing) played the last song of their set. I grew increasingly nervous as I watched Shout the Call chewing their nails and drumming their fingers in anticipation. Aaron paced back and forth like a caged animal that was quickly losing its. I couldn’t bear to see him so wound up but at the same time I could easily understand how anxious he and the rest of the band were. I walked up to Aaron and placed my hands on his chest to try and stop him in his tracks.

“Aaron,” I said, trying to push my own nervousness to the back of my mind, “you keep pacing like that and there’ll b no floor left.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, emitting a feeble laugh, “You okay Bea?”

“I will be when you stop it.”

“Sorry angel.”

“Hey, I’m only kidding honey,” I said, rubbing his shoulders, “I cannot imagine how nerve wracking it must be to play to so many people but I can imagine how amazing it must be too. They’re all here for you.”

“What do you mean, here for you?” Aaron asked, immediately jumping on the defence.

“Well, you know – everyone in that crowd is here for you. You can’t tell me that the crowd, especially the girls, don’t hang off every single word you sing and say?”

“I’ve never noticed to be honest with you Bea,” Aaron replied and he knew instantly that I knew that was a lie, “I mean, well what I mean is it doesn’t bother me.”

“What?” I scoffed, noticing Aaron’s face turn serious again, almost angry, “you can’t tell me that you don’t love the attention? I know I would.”

“Well, not everyone is like you then, obviously!” he shot back sharply.

“Bloody hell Aaron,” I retaliated; there was no way he was getting off with talking to me like that, “what the hell is wrong with you? I feel like I’m constantly walking on egg shells around you at the moment. Nothing I say or do is right when it comes to you, to us. I don’t know how I’m supposed to be around you so I tell you what, let’s keep our relationship strictly professional, at least that way, we’ll both know exactly where we stand.”

“No Bea, please,” Aaron pleaded, “I really like you. You know there’s something between us, surely you feel that?”

I felt like screaming at Aaron. I wanted to shake some sense into him.

“Feel it?!” I shouted, not giving a damn whether the whole world and God’s dog could hear, “Of course I feel it you idiot! Why do you think I’m always asking if you’re okay? Why do you think I’m concerned about you and whatever it is that’s going on with you right now? It’s not for my health, I can tell you that now and I tell you something else too – I’ve never felt so stressed about a man. It shouldn’t be this hard Aaron!”

I felt my throat tightening and it was an effort to swallow the sob that was threatening to explode from my mouth. Aaron seemed to sense that I was on the verge of breaking down and as much as I wanted to, I could not resist the hug he pulled me into. In fact, I sank into it, taking in his scent and strength; finding solace in his embrace. It quickly dawned on me that I could never stay angry at Aaron and that got to me. Each time I felt like there was no point in going on like this, he knew exactly how to placate me.

Aaron gently pushed me away and out of his arms.

“Bea, I promise you now, I do not like you,” he said, pausing for thought and possibly dramatic effect, “I think I love you and I mean really love you.”

He looked at me expectantly, hoping for some kind of response. I stood there, with my mouth wide open though, unable to utter a single syllable.

“Do you understand me, Bea – I love you!” Aaron went on, interrupting the silence.

“Um, okay,” I replied, coming back down to earth, “I, I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t expect you to say anything honey,” Aaron said, thankful for the response, “I know I’ve been a total dick but I want you to know that I really didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

I shook my head, not in disagreement but in deep realisation; I knew Aaron was being sincere.

“So all this,” he continued, “all this with me being a total loser and treating you bad; it really isn’t you. You are amazing Bea and I don’t deserve you. You can do so much better.”

“Aaron, you are not a loser! Yes, you have been a total dick. You’ve hurt me and I haven’t known whether I’ve been coming or going but I know that that’s because boys haven’t got a clue when it comes to girls, not really. Despite what’s happened Aaron, I think I love you too.”

Aaron let out a long sigh as if he had been holding his breath since we began our little tiff. The look of relief on his face was priceless.

“But let me finish,” I went on, “I know there’s something you’re dying to tell me and maybe not tonight, but I need you to tell me what it is. I need to know what’s going on. The only way we can go forward is to be totally honest with each other."

Aaron nodded and pulled me swiftly into his arms, kissing me hard on the mouth. I kissed back before resting my head in the crook if his neck and whispering sincerely into his ear, “Now go and smash it honey!”

******

I took my place in the pit and readied myself for shooting Shout the Call for the very first time and even after everything Aaron and I had been through so far, I was excited; seriously excited. At nine pm, the room went black and even with my ear plugs in, the sound of the crowd whooping, hollering and screaming was almost ear splitting. ‘Back in Black’ by ACDC played over the PA and I immediately felt pumped. As far as I was aware, I was the only photographer who didn’t have to adhere to the ‘three-song-rule’ that usually applies at most gigs nowadays but I made a mental decision to shoot through no more than four songs. I wanted to be backstage, stage left, watching my favourite band of all time blow the crowd away.

The band suddenly filed on to stage and blasted out the opening riff of ‘You Really Shouldn’t’ and that was my cue to get the money shot. The second I pointed my camera up at Aaron, he flashed me a look that assured me I was the only girl that mattered.

******

Without realising, I found myself at the bar. I had finished shooting and I was thirsty. I ordered a pint of cider, which was my drink of choice at most gigs, and stood, at the back of the room watching the crowd lap up the band, the music and the atmosphere. I’m no fool; it was more than easy to see why all the girls, and a fair few of the men, idolised Aaron. I could see it because I was one of them too. Aaron was charismatic and captivating on stage. He had the crowd in the palm of his hand. Of course, the rest of the band was on fire too.

The gig flew by. I made my way backstage to prepare for my first Shout the Call, post-gig interview. Jim stood, side of stage, waiting for me. He took my hand and gave me a paternal kiss on the cheek.

“You ready for this Bea?”

“Like you’ll never believe,” I replied, flashing him a warm smile.

******

Jim showed me through to our room and the sight of table after table full of French delicacies made my mouth water and my stomach groan. The smell of fresh bread, garlic and cheese swamped my senses. Was this how the band were treated in every venue they played? Jim gasped. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who was surprised by the spread that had been put out for us.

“Make yourself comfy then Bea.” Jim said as he reluctantly turned to head back out the door.

“Thanks Jim. Are you not staying?”

“As much as I would love to Bea,” he replied, eyes scouting the room again, almost salivating, “someone’s got to rally the troops.”

“I’ll go Jim. I’ll find them. You look tired.”

“Blimey, thanks Bea – you really know how to make a guy feel special.”

I laughed and Jim’s fake scowl turned in to a wide smile. He started to laugh too.

“Seriously though,” I went on, patting him on the shoulder, “you’ve already done so much already; driving and organising and whatnot. It’s the least I can do. Have a little break eh?”

“That sounds a very good idea,” Jim answered.

I turned past Jim, assuming he had taken me up on the offer. As I grabbed the handle of the door though, Jim took hold of my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

“No Bea, honestly; you’re better staying here love.”

******

It seemed silly of me not to take advantage of such generous hospitality so whilst I had some time alone; I helped myself to some camembert and crusty French bread. It was delicious. The profiteroles were beyond delicious; I had never tasted any this good before. I washed it all down with a large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

I waited for over forty minutes and it was getting a little tedious. I had to go and stretch my legs as much to walk off a little of the food than to rid me of my boredom. Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that I was nosy and wanted to know why Jim didn’t want me to go after the guys. All I wanted to do was get the interview in the bag and then we could all go off and do whatever we wanted.

I peeped my head out from the behind the door and scanned the corridor. All was clear and considering we were in a concert hall, the venue was eerily quiet. The band had been off stage for around an hour but as with any gig, you always get the stragglers and the hardcore fans hanging out, hoping to get photos, autographs and even talk to their hero’s but it really was too silent. I tried to shove the feeling of unrest to the back of my mind and headed down the corridor until I found myself standing right outside the stage door. I gingerly took hold of its handle. Half of me berated myself for not taking Jim’s advice; the last thing I wanted to do was upset him and lose his trust. The other half was telling me to get a grip and get on with it. I punted on the latter and hoped for the best.

I took a long, deep breath and, using my free hand to steady the shaking one on the handle; I pulled it down and pushed the door wide open. I couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from mouth.