My New Obsession [BxB]

Chapter Seventeen- Every Hour, On The Hour, They Drew Blood

 “I’ve got the van sorted now, that’s all good… You’re leaving her on Thursday at six in the evening so that you can get to your hotel so that you can have a good night’s sleep before the show on Friday… I will personally be travelling with the CD’s when they’re done, that should all be ok… We just need to settle the album artwork and those t-shirt designs… Everything’s a little last minute, but that’s alright, I suppose. I mean, think about it, last week we didn’t even know you would be doing this tour.” David said.

 The Chain tour was a small, two week tour that we had been booked into at the last minute. It wasn’t very long but it pulled a good crowd and was all over the UK. There had been quite a buzz for the band over the last month and people had actually heard of us now. Scriveners- the magazine who were doing an Introducing feature on us- would also be covering the tour.

 David went back behind his desk and pulled out the file of artwork. He opened the file and pulled out the selection of two that we had narrowed it down to. Both were George’s works, both amazing- obviously- but I personally didn’t feel that they belonged on the album. They didn’t necessarily go with what we were trying to say.

 Our debut album was rather dark and angry. We were still all really mad and in a bad way and we weren’t coping with anything very well.

 “I have an idea.” I said.

 “That’s nice, James. Does it relate to either of these pieces of artwork?” David asked.

 “No. But it’s related to artwork.” I said. “Let me show you something?”

 David nodded and to everyone’s surprise I grabbed Jake by the shirt and pulled him up. I yanked him out of the office and as we sprinted to the car I instructed him to drive us home. When we got there Jake stayed in the car and I ran to the cupboard where all of my stuff was and started to rifle through my school things. I grabbed my art folder and sprinted back to the car.

 Back in the office I felt myself blush as I nervously pulled out the work I had done for the first part of my Art A-Level. I showed them the painting of the boy sitting in the moonlight by a river of blood. No-one said anything.

 “It’s dumb, I’m sorry, I-” I gabbled, trying to cover it up, but Bryan slapped my hands away from the painting.

 “I think we’ve found our artwork.” Rich said. I stared at him. For that to come from Rich was fucking impressive and a bloody big compliment. Everyone in the room nodded and I stared at them all.

 “Yes, James! It’ll work well on a shirt, plus the boy can be the motif on a band patch… It works. I love it.” David said, smiling.

 So we had the album artwork, another t-shirt and band patch design and we’d already done our simple logo. David had pulled some strings with the clothing design company and they had said that as soon as he gave them the order they’d put our request to the top of the list.

 We shook hands at the end of the meeting. I was a little dazed. My artwork would be on our debut album, on our first ever printed t-shirts and band patches. My artwork. And that was our music, too, our music that we had crafted and created.

 We all headed back to mine and Jake’s and everyone was a little speechless. It was all happening. It was all really happening. I was wonderfully terrified.

 I went out to the back garden by myself for a cigarette. I was tense but at the same time relaxed, grounded but dazed, confused but enlightened. In truth, I half knew what was happening, half didn’t understand or believe it. I inhaled and then exhaled the smoke, watching it traipse out of my mouth and to the sky. I heard the door open and close and turned to see Matt. He smiled at me, just a tiny curl of the lips, but still- a smile.

 “How’re you doing, dude?” I asked him. He shrugged. I pulled him into a hug- and then pushed him away quickly. “Dude… what the… what?”

 “Don’t tell George. Please.” he begged. His eyes were wide with fear now.

 “Why the fuck do you stink of alcohol? I thought you’d stopped this!” I hissed.

 “I c-can’t help it, James. It helps me.” he slurred.

 “Does it? Does it really?” I snapped. He became rather interested in his shoes. I paused. “Tell me it’s just the alcohol. Matt, please- tell me it’s just alcohol.”

 Oh look. A shoelace. I can see how captivating that must be to Matt.

 “You can’t tell anyone, James.” he muttered.

 I stared at him. I wanted to be sick. I felt faint. I wanted to run a fucking marathon. I wanted to punch something. No, I wanted to punch someone, kill someone. Liam. I lunged forward and grabbed Matt by the shoulders, shaking him.

 “Stop it. Stop it now. I’ll tell George, I swear to god-”

 “It’s too late. It’s all too late.” he whispered.

 He rolled up his shirt sleeve and this time I couldn’t help but throw up.