What He Left Behind

When the weekend arrives, I’ve just about constructed an excuse to tell my dad. There’s no way in hell he will let me go to a bar to see a rock band, much less if he knows about Charlie and his reputation, so I tell him I’m hanging out with a girl from school. He’s surprised, probably owing to the fact I never socialised back home, but he simply gives me some money for dinner and doesn’t question it. He’s not the sort of person to check out my story to see if I’m lying anyway. He doesn’t care enough to do that.

Charlie assures me the gig isn’t anything special; they’re just playing at a small bar downtown that always has some kind of live music on. It’s not ticketed or anything, so I wonder how Charlie plans on getting me in being as I’m only sixteen, five years from being legally allowed into a bar. Charlie himself has only turned eighteen just last weekend so I’m not sure how he managed to get the band a gig there. Then again, this is Charlie Hemmingway. It does seem like he gets everything he wants.

I’m not someone to spend ages deliberating over what to wear, so I quickly settle for a cute black dress and a cropped denim jacket. I pair the outfit with my torn up old Converse – comfort over glamour any day – and then I put on more makeup than usual so that I look a bit older and don’t stick out so obviously in the bar.

It is a warm autumn evening outside and not too long a walk downtown. Charlie offered to pick me up but I refused, partly because I didn’t want to risk my dad seeing him, but more because I’m not about to accept any favours from him or he’ll start thinking I owe him something. Besides, I haven’t explored the city much at all yet so walking gives me a chance to get my bearings.

When I arrive at the venue, I’m pleasantly surprised to see it looks a bit nicer than I expected, on the exterior at least. It’s somewhere between the absolute dive I was expecting and semi-classy. Despite it being only 8:30pm, there are several people milling about outside, most of them dressed down with tattoos covering every inch of visible skin. I bet Charlie fits right in here.

“Miss, can I see your I.D?” queries the younger of the two bouncers when I reach the entrance.

“I’m Noelle Fisher,” I tell them, “Charlie said he told you about me?” They look at each other and exchange sceptical looks.

“You’re Noelle?” the younger one, who looks only a few years older than Charlie, asks.

“Yeah,” I assure, confused. The pair smirk, but then the younger one extends his hand.

“I’m Nick, a mate of Charlie’s,” he greets, shaking my hand, “I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

“No, I just moved here. Charlie told me about his band. I wanted to see if he’s half as good as he thinks he is.”

“You’re in for a treat,” he muses.

“Why do you say that?”

“Charlie’s got a bit of a reputation round here,” Nick explains.

“He’s not that bad, is he?”

“Nah, he’s alright. I like him. Just watch yourself because that boy doesn’t half get himself into some shit.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You’ll be fine. He just lets his ego get ahead of him sometimes. He’s real talented but he gets caught up in the booze and the girls and the idea of fame.”

“Does he bring a lot of girls here?”

“Not so much brings them in as takes them home. The guys are kind of local celebrities so a lot of girls come to the shows. He usually gets off with one of them. He’s brought a couple of girls his age in. Do you know Tay Anderson? I think she goes to your school.”

“Yeah I know of her,” I say, picturing the stunning dark-haired girl who I originally thought Charlie might be dating. I soon found out he wasn’t; Charlie doesn’t date apparently, not seriously at least.

“Yeah, she sometimes comes here with her friends. She’s alright and she’s quite a bit classier than some of the girls I see him with. Like no doubt they’re hooking up, but she doesn’t throw herself at him the way some girls do. Anyway, don’t let us keep you. Turn right and it’s the first door on the left. Hopefully, we’ll see you around here again.”

I continue into the bar and follow the directions that Nick gave, finding myself in a room with a stage at the front where another band is currently playing. It’s dark and crowded with people but there is a bar running down the right hand side of the room. Most people are sat at the bar or dancing and drunkenly falling about in the centre of the room, but there are a few tables dotted around the outside of the room. I head to one near the stage and sit down.

Once the band on stage finish, it is not long before I see Stan, Mason, and two others whom I presume are Adam and Harvey come on stage, followed by Charlie. They are greeted by shouts from rowdy drunk guys and cheers from a group of scantily clad girls in the corner. Charlie glances at the group of girls, who I reckon must be in their early twenties, and smirks.

The moment he starts to sing though, I am caught in a trance. His voice, which usually makes me want to stick pins in my eyes, is powerful and weirdly captivating. Whilst the songs are lyrically quite dark, they’re also well-written with catchy guitar hooks and fast-paced drum beats. The entire band plays with so much energy and flair and every word Charlie sings is laced with emotion, making it clear to anyone just how passionate he is about his music. He owns the stage, commanding the audience like it doesn’t faze him at all. Aswell as his unfaltering confidence you’d have to be blind to miss, I’ve noticed he has a tendency to lead, or in other words demand. I suppose performing is his healthy outlet for that. It doesn’t take me long to realise this is what he’s born to do.

---

“What do you think?” Charlie quizzes, appearing from the crowd looking sweaty and dishevelled and effortlessly attractive. His eyes are gleaming with a kind of happiness you can’t fake. He looks exhilarated, his signature smirk traded for a euphoric grin.

“Charlie, you guys are amazing!” I praise.

“You think so?” he checks, surprising me by not making one of his usual cocky remarks.

“Yes.”

“Good. Thank you! Come and meet the guys,” he insists, reaching out for my hand. Charlie leads me through the crowds and towards the bar at the back of the room. Until now, I hadn’t noticed how busy the venue had got. Charlie is one of those people whose mere presence demands all of your attention. He’s charismatic and charming and he has this magnetic sort of energy that leaves you unable to tear your eyes away for a single second. I’m completely oblivious to everything going on around me when he’s in the room.

Meeting the rest of the band feels almost like meeting a herd of mythical creatures. Ever since I started at Sac High, I’ve been bombarded with stories, rumours and hearsay about Charlie and his friends, few of them painting the guys in a positive light. Aside from Charlie, and Stan briefly, I’ve never had any encounters with them personally. I’m excited to finally meet them and figure them out for myself.

Yet, I can’t help but fear Austin would go mad if he knew where I was right now. I met Charlie only a fortnight ago, and most of our interactions have been more confrontational than friendly, but now here I am, having snuck out to meet them, in a dive of a bar that I’m not legally allowed to be in. It practically screams danger, or at least stupidity on my part. Austin used to lecture me constantly about that – about staying on the right path and being responsible. I’d tell him that I can’t help being impulsive and he’d always respond, “No, but you can help being dumb.”

Austin was far too protective over me. It used to drive me insane. After all, what position was he in to be lecturing me when he was hardly leading by example? Looking back though, it’s one of the things I miss most. I miss having someone that actually gave a damn about me.

“Guys, this is Noelle,” Charlie says, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up to see Harvey and Adam sat at the bar, each with a beer in their hand. Mason’s stood behind the bar, a couple of feet away, serving other customers and Stan’s chatting to a group of girls by the door. When he sees me he grins and comes over, dragging up a chair for me.

“Ah Miss Noelle, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Adam greets, shaking my hand before he turns to Charlie, “I was having anxiety thinking you were gonna bring Coral.”

“Who’s Coral?” I ask.

“The blonde whore in our homeroom class,” Stan replies, causing me to cringe at his casual use of such derogatory language. “She follows Charlie around like a lost sheep.”

“Right, I think I know who you mean,” I say, picturing the heavily made up girl that sits next to Charlie on the days he bothers to show up to homeroom.

“She’s so fucking annoying,” Charlie complains, “She never leaves me alone.”

“Dude, you don’t help the situation,” Stan chuckles before looking down at me, “He’s all for her when he wants a quick fuck.” I look to Charlie and he grins guiltily.

“You get around, don’t you?” I muse, half-teasingly.

“What are you saying?”

“Nick told me about Tay.”

Charlie laughs a little. “Tay’s cool.”

“Nah, Tay actually is alright,” Stan agrees, “Coral’s the most whingy slut I’ve ever met. Tay has a little more self-respect.”

“I see.”

“Mason!” Charlie shouts, calling his friend over to us. Mason finishes with the customer he’s serving and then grabs a beer for Charlie.

“Noelle, what are you having?” Charlie asks me.

“Just a diet coke.”

“Oh come on,” Charlie frowns, “Nothing stronger?”

“I don’t drink,” I inform him, “How do you guys get away with drinking here anyway?”

“My uncle owns this place,” Mason informs me, passing me my diet coke. “He lets us drink on the house if I help him out behind the bar sometimes.”

“Legit then,” I say sarcastically. For the next hour or so we hang out at the bar and then Harvey, after assuring me he’s only drank one beer, drives Charlie, Stan and I back to his, stopping for food on the way. Mason has to work for a short while longer so Adam stays with him.

“Are you crashing at mine too?” Stan asks me. I look to Charlie for an answer and he nods.

“If that’s alright,” I say.

“Sure.”

Stan’s house has a similar layout to mine. It’s small and simple, but he explains it’s only him and his mom that live there. His mom often stays at her boyfriend’s anyway, hence why we have the place to ourselves for the night. Charlie sits down on the couch and pulls me down next to him while Stan goes to get more beers. The four of us make easy conversation for a while and I persuade Charlie to send me The Ransom’s demo tracks because I’m absolutely hooked.

It’s not long until Adam and Mason get back and the guys all cheer when Adam holds up a few bags of white powder. Instantly, I’m caught like a deer in headlights. I breathe in sharply and forget how to breathe out, my stomach churning uneasily. I want to say something but it’s hard to speak when you feel like you’ve just been punched in the chest.

“Are you in?” Charlie asks me as though it’s the most mundane thing in the world, ignorant to the fact I feel sick with the worst sense of deja vu.
Charlie must notice the look on my face because he quickly asks me what the problem is.

“Are you serious Charlie?” I ask, stunned by how casually he can trivialise something as potent as snorting cocaine. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Relax,” he instructs, laughing it off.

“No I will not fucking relax,” I snap irately. “I came to see your band, not do a couple of lines.”

He shrugs. “Don’t have any then.”

I reach for my bag and phone, knowing it’s best for me to leave this instant. I refuse to be a part of this. I was done with this shit a long time ago and I’m not about to step straight back into it.

“Where are you going?” Charlie exclaims, leaping off the couch and grabbing my arm. The other guys stare at me expectantly, as though none of them can fathom why this could be such a problem.

“Where the fuck do you think I’m going? I don’t want to be a part of this.”

“You can’t leave now. It’s gone midnight.”

“Well I’m not staying here. If you wanna drive yourself into an early grave then whatever; it’s really none of my business. But you’re not dragging me into it with you, that’s for sure.”
Charlie grabs me by the arm again and tugs me into the kitchen, turning up the music a little so that the others can’t hear us. I stare at him expectantly, hoping that whatever he’s got to say isn’t half as stupid as all his other ideas seem to be.

He remains silent for a few seconds, looking me up and down with a scrutinising stare, as though trying to read my thoughts through analysing my body language.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, you know. None of us are trying to force you into taking stuff.”

“Damn right you’re not. But you’re missing the point Charlie. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be around drugs or drug users. I just don’t want to be a part of any of this.”

“Look, people make this kinda thing out to be a big deal but I promise you it’s not. We’re not stupid. We know what we’re doing.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. If I had a dollar for every time I heard that one I’d be a motherfucking
millionaire. One line of cocaine and people lose all sense of reason, I swear.

“How do you think addictions start Charlie?” I ask disparagingly, “Do you think anyone sets out to be a drug addict or to overdose? No, they don’t. They start by doing it a couple of times and rationalising ‘it doesn’t seem to be doing any harm’ and then a few months later they find themselves in the hospital or perhaps the morgue.”

“You’re overreacting.”

I breathe in sharply, every nerve in my body on high-alert. I clench my fists and focus all my energy on not losing my temper. As angry as I am, I know all too well there is no point arguing. There’s no getting through to some people; I learned that the hard way.

“Stay here. You’re practically asking to get mugged if you go out at this time.”

“I don’t want to be around drug users. What is so hard to understand about that? I’m tired and I just wanna go home and go to bed.”

“You can go to sleep here. Stan will let you crash in his room,” Charlie persists, “Seriously, it’s not a good idea walking round at this time.”

I hesitate, thinking about how I don’t know this neighbourhood all that well yet, and how my dad would kill me if he caught me sneaking into the house in the early hours. Charlie looks at me with an expression so innocent you wouldn’t suspect for one second that he snorts cocaine and sleeps around and gets into trouble a lot. It’s enough to make me give in. And believe me, I’m not one to cave easily.