Cyanide Sun

“Hey, you fat bastard.”

“Hey, pretty boy.” Mige greeted without looking up from his phone. “Where are the others?”

“Dunno. Should be on the way.”

“How are you doing?” Ville let out an exasperated sigh and tried to keep from rolling his eyes. “I can’t ask you how you are?”

“You can. It’s that tone that bothers me. Like you’re worried I’m gonna fall apart any second.”

“Well, you do have a mosey, self-deprecating quality that colors your skin.”

“S’nothing but a proper Finnish clout.” As he adjusted in his seat, he asked, “Jesse’s engaged, did he tell you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Said there’s a get together this Saturday at their place.”

“Yeah.”

“Is Seppo coming today?”

“I didn’t tell him anything. I thought it was better for us to figure out what we wanted before we heard the numbers, and the business, and the blah blah. Whatever. That’s a separate headache.”

“Just wanted to feel everyone’s pulse.”

“Yeah.” Ville looked up as Burton walked into the rehearsal space. “Hey.”

“Hello, hello.” He took off his jacket and took a seat next to Mige on the couch.

“How’s Ana?” Mige asked, receiving a scowl from Burton. He muttered, “I get all the faces. So much for being polite to others.”

“Way too much energy for her age.” he explained.

“Hey, sorry I got caught up at Manna’s.” Linde mumbled as he wandered inside, taking the empty seat across from Mige and Burton. Ville was too anxious to sit, so he resorted to pacing back and forth, staring at the floor.

“So… I mean, what are you guys feeling?”

Everyone was silent, not knowing where to begin. Surprisingly, Linde was the first to voice his opinion. “It’s been 15 years with the same set of guys, I… it would feel strange to bring someone else into the family to continue on.” He had had the chance to work on a few projects other than HIM, and although they didn’t garner nearly the amount of success as this band, it was a creative escape that he needed. He was sure that he could return to those sources, maybe even start something new, if things had to end here. “Don’t you think?”

“But are we really ready to give this up? I want things to end on our terms, not because someone left and put us in that position.” Mige offered, and Ville threw him a sympathetic look.

“What’s the alternative? Trying to find someone who can learn--what? The thirty songs on the setlist, and know it well. Flawlessly?” Burton questioned, and added some levity. “Nevermind having the personality to gel with the egos among us.”

“The latter is harder to find.” Ville agreed with a chuckle. “I’m sure we can find a good drummer, though.”

“You’re the hardest one to please. You really think we can find someone to fulfill your mile-high expectations?”

“If you all are willing, I’m sure we can try.”

A comfortable lull fell over the group as they mulled it over. Ville, tired of fidgeting to and fro, walked to the end of the room to grab an acoustic guitar. He strummed it on his way back and sat on a chair, letting the guitar find its place in his lap. It didn’t matter what he played--currently, it was “Stripped” by Depeche Mode, but it would soon turn into some other morose tune--so long as his security blanket was near him.

“Maybe it’s a sign.” Burton wondered aloud. “Y’know with everything else that’s going on. Tears on Tape was… not the showstopper we hoped it would be. Screamworks didn’t even come close to what we thought--hardly any radioplay other than the usual suspects.” He paused. “With Gas leaving, maybe this is the natural end.”

“I fully support his wish to pursue other bands, other sounds, but… I’m not going to let him decide what happens to the rest of us. If we want to continue--and I think we should--we should do that instead of trying to divine what ‘the universe’ wants for us or some fucking hippie bullshit, get real.”

“Tell us how you really feel, Mige.” Ville smirked. “I... “ He measured his words. “I think we should try to do this, try to continue on. Like you said, it all depends on whether we can find a drummer that can fit the bill. Obviously, he would have big shoes to fill, but if we can find someone suitable, someone that fits with us, I don’t see why we should quit a good thing we have going.”

He didn’t want to force them into anything, yet he pushed them to see that this was for the best. One musician to replace was doable. If it were three, it would be nearly impossible to replicate the sound, the vibe, the culture of this band. It wouldn’t be worth it. And having them go their separate ways to start their own ventures? This was magic. It couldn’t be recreated.

“It’s been nice to be home, to see Livvie whenever I please. If I’m going to give that up--the music isn’t a question. Of course I want to keep playing. But the time away from home has to be worth it.”

“My feelings are the same.” Burton affirmed.

“If we don’t find someone by the end of the summer…” Ville locked eyes with Mige, who signalled his approval. “then we won’t push it any further.”

The home was quiet, and for once, Ville welcomed it. Usually, he’d have some record playing softly in the background to avoid the stillness of the large tower, but today he was so preoccupied by the boxes in front of him that he didn’t even notice.

The tower was far bigger than necessary for him, but he couldn’t let it go. He had originally bought it for the privacy it afforded, but after Avery’s visits and the imprint she’d left, the tower meant too much for him to give it up. He hadn’t even sold the apartment in New York; most of their belongings remained untouched, though he’d brought some important things back to Finland--the photo albums and journals she’d left him, of course, along with some other things. Ville thought it would have been easier, that he could have returned to the City after Helldone that year and taken care of his affairs. But he stared at the painting on the wall of the study, and it was the last piece of her that he had left. He couldn’t part with it so easily. So, it stayed.

Before him were some of the things he'd brought over. With the engagement party in a few days, Ville wanted to find one of Avery's necklaces, a small symbol to welcome Aina to the family on Avery's behalf. The doors leading to the roof of the tower were open, letting a crisp cool air into the third floor as he browsed the boxes.

He soon came upon the box with the delicate jewelry. The first necklace in his hands was a well-adorned chain with sapphires resembling roses and diamonds connecting them. It was beautiful, but not the one he was searching for. A few small boxes of earrings and bracelets though, and he found the necklace: a gold chevron with a pattern of emeralds. It was something Avery wanted to keep in the family, so Ville knew it would be an appropriate gift.

As he turned away, his eyes flickered to the garnet bracelet underneath. He pulled it out and grazed his thumb over the ornate silver linking the oval stones together, smiling at the memory. The two were roaming France between his shows, and Avery had spotted it in the window of a jewelry store. She was insistent that he didn’t buy it-- “That money would be better spent elsewhere” she’d said-- but Ville saw her eyes yearning for it and surprised her with it later that evening.

“I told you not to.” Avery said, though she was beaming at the sight.

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” Ville reminded.