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n we'll be just feeding some fucking maggots or. . wood termites or whatever, fuck knows how soon!"
He still stood, hands to his sides, looking so confused and lost for a moment I couldn't believe it was actually Liam.
"I'm not gonna sing that. Ever again."
"Eh?" I had wanted to say something else but I was out of words. What the fuck can you say? Your twenty-two year old brother telling you that he can't sing some tune because he just realised he's not immortal.
"So you're saying... right, you're saying you never ever thought about that, like, ever before?"
He's fucking twenty-two.
"No."
Jesus.
We stared at each other for a moment. I think that was, if you excuse the cheeky expression, the one time he broke my heart.
I walked over to Liam and put my arm around his shoulder.
"Come on, let's get you properly drunk."
* * *
I wish I could rip the sheets into pieces but I do not have the power. I can barely feel my legs or arms. Face pressed against the pillow I can hardly breathe, it sounds slow to my ears. But it isn't louder than the endless why.
* * *
"That's a crap tune."
Liam stared at me over the mixing desk.
"Well at least you don't have to sing it." He was pissing me off, again.
"I'm not gonna have you putting some sad miserable shit tune on our single."
"Why don't you go and write a fucking merry-go-round song then and let's have that."
"We're not gonna put that two-cunts-have-a-nice-fucking-chatter-tonight song on that single."
I didn't get what was his issue.
"Just fuck off before I'll fuck off, again."
That made Liam angry. He threw his arms to the air, knocking down a lamp on the desk.
"I'm not gonna have some fucking singalong tune on that bloody single about some bird saving your fucking life."
He fixed a stare at me and walked out of the room.
* * *
I lay on the bed and stare the late afternoon sunrays on the wall. The mobile phone on the bedside table lights up, I do not want to answer. It goes off, but a minute later someone's trying to call again. It's still on mute. I pick it up, Sara is calling.
"Hello."
There's a silence and then she begins.
"I... I heard that..."
"Yeah."
"Christ... Noel... I... I tried to call earlier."
"It's alright, it's alright."
I bury my face against the pillow and inhale deep. Why the smell has to linger when he's not here anymore.
"Sara listen, where are you?"
"I was... was thinking of taking the next plane."
"No. I mean, just stay there for a while longer, alright?"
Silence.
"Everything's fine here... just stay there, please."
"It doesn't sound like everything's alright there. I could be there this evening already."
"Just stay there. Please."
I sound pathetic and she doesn't deserve it.
"Call me then."
"I will."
I hang up the phone and shut my eyes.
* * *
Let's get two facts straight. Fact one, I was out of my head on cocaine. That was more of a rule than an exception around that time. So what I did, I'm not sure if I'd done it if it wasn't for cocaine. Fact two, what I felt back there was in no way affected by any chemical substance, I'm positive about that.
Loch Lomond, the biggest warm-up concert in music history. Liam was pacing back and forth, a can of ale in his hand, hood over the eyes, the kid was shitting himself before big shows. The introtape kicked in and the sheer power of fourty-thousand people shouting made me stand up. Liam took one wild look around the trailer and rushed out. 'Here we go,' I thought.
I followed and saw him climbing the stairs up to the stage. No one moved to stop him, there was no one there who would've even considered stopping him. As I reached the back of the stage, he was there, arms spread wide open, bowing and gesturing the audience.
"C'mon!"
I could barely hear his shouting through the music and the noise the audience was making. He sat down and I stared at his back for a few seconds and then walked over. Another wave of thousands of people screaming incomprehendable nonsense to the air. I stood there behind him, and it was fucking madness. Fourty-thousand people who loved me. Fourty-thousand people who loved Liam.
I looked down and wrapped my arms around his neck. He tensed, somewhat suprised, and looked up at me. Fuck, but those eyes killed me, right there in the middle of the madness. He met me midway and I kissed him.
Fourty-thousand cheering people and Liam. Fuck the rest. Best moment of my life, that far.
* * *
It's the phone again. Still on mute. Mother.
"Oh Noel... gods. Noel."
She's crying and I feel a lump in my throat.
"I've tried to call you so many times, I called the others too and they said..."
She swallows couple of times and I have to say something.
"I just wanted time to think. I should've called."
But I didn't even think about it. I wish I could soothe her but I can't.
"Mam, I..."
She takes a deep breath and sounds so strong.
"Just take your time. Paul's here... I'll be fine. We'll be fine."
"I..."
"I just wanted to hear your voice, to know you're there."
* * *
I was separating a line from the rest of the pile with sleevenote of some CD. Morris was playing to me the vocals that had been done yesterday.
"Where's Don't Go Away? Weren't you supposed to do it?"
"Liam couldn't do it."
"The bastard. Of course he can."
"He walked out, crying." Morris shrugged.
"Tell you what, I leave this pile here and next time he does that, you tell him to choke on it and go fuck himself."
* * *
I don't know why I'm doing this.
I stare at myself in the mirror in the hall and put on the leather jacket. The moment I open the door there's instant click-click-click of cameras, but I don't think of anything so nothing stops me.
"Mister Gallagher, very sorry for your loss."
I nod at them.
"How are you feeling?"
"I... well how would you be feeling if you were in my shoes. Like that I'd assume." I doubt it.
"The Sun... How did you hear about what had happened."
"A friend of mine came over to tell me."
"That's good to hear you weren't alone... now I have one question related to the speculations already going on around in the press. Was Liam's death possibly his own choice?"
"What?" Fucking hell. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"But..."
"No fucking but's." I spot a TV-camera and point at it. "Now you hear me kids there, if there's someone miserable enough to think anything like this, I tell you that's the least thing he'd done. Ever. End of story."
"Do you know any details of the events of that night?"
"No."
The simple feeling of being pissed off at someone seemed to made me realise where I was and what I was doing.
"That's all."
I turn my back to the protests and close the door behind me. I walk past the mirror, round the corner towards living room and slide along the wall to the floor.
* * *
"That was awful crap and you know it."
"Say what?"
"You know what I mean, you twat."
"No, I don't. Say it again, come on."
Liam took a step towards me. I knew I was just fuelling the fire but gods I was pissed off at him.
"That shit over there on stage didn't deserve any fucking outstanding contribution, you sounded like some fucked-up drunken karaoke singer on his worst day."
"You think so, yeah? Well believe you me I thought it was the best fucking vocals I've ever done and you can shove that golden award up your arse for all I care."
"You sort out that voice of yours or you won't be going to studio for the next album."
"Cunt."
"Whatever. Fix that shit."
"Cunt."
"Fuck it, I'm being serious."
"Cunt."
I stared at him.
"You know, you're nearly thirty-five."
"What the fuck that's got to do with it?"
"Well, remember when you were nineteen you said everyone in music who was thirty-five should be shot? Say hello to yourself."
I walked out of the room because I couldn't look at him, not after that.
* * *
"You home?"
"Yeah."
"You alone?"
"Yeah."
"I'll come over, alright?"
I considered for a moment, but realised Liam would've just ignored it if I had said no.
"Sure."
Sometime later the doorbell rang. If he was drunk I'd send him back into the night. I opened the door and headed back to the kitchen where the teawater was boiling.
"I'm totally knackered so if you're here for a party, you'd better try next door."
Liam entered the kitchen, his jacket still on.
"Can I sleep on your sofa?"
I wrapped my fingers around the mug to warm them and leaned against the kitchen table.
"Nic threw you out?" I grinned.
"No, no. She's visiting her sister."
"Alright. Let me find you a pillow."
He nodded and shrugged off the jacket. I walked past him, sipping the tea, and headed for our gigantic cupboard room. It was exactly that, room full of cupboards. I managed to drag a duvet and pillow out of the room without spilling my tea too much and I considered taking them to the guestroom but Liam was already in the living room, standing next to the sofa.
"There's a proper bed in guestroom you know."
"No it's good here, I don't mind."
Suit yourself. I threw the bedstuff on the sofa.
"Cheers."
Liam set the pillow and duvet while I was drinking the tea.
"You tired?"
I was, past the point where tea would keep me up any longer.
"Yeah."
"Alright, good night then." Liam spread himself to the sofa and I headed to the stairs, switching the light off.
"Nighty night."
Well, that had been less painful than expected.
I cringed as I realised I had forgotten to do the bed in the morning. Luckily Sara didn't see that mess. I stood by the window, peeking between the curtains to the backyard, finishing the tea and just taking a deep breath. The mug was turning cold and I wished it still had hot tea in it.
There was steps coming up the stairs and I turned around to see Liam standing at the door with the pillow and duvet. Reminded me of one afternoon years and years ago. He shuffled from one leg to the other and smiled somewhat sheepishly.
"Sure. Go on then." I shrugged and took off my shirt. "Don't need to change the bed things, just leave them on the floor." I made sure the curtains were closed, got rid of my trousers and dived between the sheets.
Liam undressed, I laid there arms bent behind my head, watching him for a moment.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He laughed shortly. "Alright."
I switched the light off as he got to the bed.
"Good night."
"Night."
We laid there. I listened to his breathing. It was an odd moment, nothing seemed wrong or fucked up. No guilt. Just Liam.
I slid my arm over his side and around his chest and when he turned around I kissed him.
* * *
I sat at the end of the bed, hot cup of tea warming my hands. Morning sun was casting lines between the curtains, over the bed and Liam. He was still sleeping, his nose pressed against my pillow.
It was eternity. That's all I say.
* * *
When the police came I had to open my door. Two of them sit in front of me in the living room, and they had gone through some details... cocaine and alcohol, heart problems that no one was aware of. I'm trying to drink my first cup of tea for two days. It has ran cold already.
"So, he was here the night before the death?"
"Yeah."
"How was he?"
"I don't know... normal."
I keep on drinking the cold tea.
"He hadn't consumed any..."
"No, he was sober."
"What time he left?"
"Around eleven, I think."
"Seems like he took a taxi fifteen past eleven two strees away, yes."
Why the fuck they're asking these questions if they know it all already.
"It seems also that he had tried to call you some time before he called the ambulance."
"What?"
I look at both of them, what is he talking about.
"I didn't get any phonecall... fuck."
I feel like throwing up.
"Muted. The phone was on mute."
"He left a message to the answering machine."
I can't say anything.
"Alright, thanks for your time, that's all for now."
They get up, head out and one of them says something like 'sorry for your loss'.
I almost run upstairs, but stop on the doorway. The phone's there on the sheets, still on mute. Evening sun is filling the room. I lay down on the bed and pick the phone up. I browse through the unanswered calls.
Liam. Three times.
Fuck. I bury my fingers to my hair, nails scraping the skin. His smell is still there in the linen, fading but still there and I try to inhale it.
I dial up to my answering machine, skip tens of messages that have piled up there during last two days.
There's a heavy sound of his breathing.
"Cunt, you're not answering."
Silence.
"Fucking love you, you know that don't you?"
* * *
I was browsing through the fridge, trying to decide what to eat, when Liam came downstairs. He sneaked behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist and fitted himself against me. His breath was tickling my ear.
"Morning to you too."
"Morning."
"Any preference on breakfast?" The yoghurt had gone old and there was some odd liquid floating on one of the shelves, originally from lettuce was my best guess.
"Not really."
"You can have a go at the lettuce and dip it into that strawberry yoghurt then." I took the marmelade and the milk out and closed the door.
"You know what?"
"I know plenty of things but what's going inside your brain. No, I honestly never know."
Liam laughed and it was almost a booming sound against my ear.
"We could just fuck off from here."
"I apologise for my humble home."
"No, I mean from everything. Just go somewhere, I don't know. Go build a fucking jungle village and live there. Two old twats and an ape."
"The bees and snakes would get on your nerves."
He let out a frustrated 'hmmpf'.
"I'm being serious."
"About the ape?"
He tensed.
"No. Not about the fucking ape, about the whole bloody thing."
I felt like I didn't want to have this conversation but wherever it was going Liam would take it there none the less.
"I don't know about you but for me it's a bit complicated if you know what I mean."
I prayed the joking tone would make him shrug off the subject. No luck.
"No I don't. Tell me."
Liam rested his chin against my shoulder. Why the things had to be so fucking wrong and difficult?
"Well there's the case of band to start with. All the mates. Mam. Then there's things like missus and kids."
"You love her don't you?"
I'm was not gonna answer to that.
"Do you?
After short silence he let go of me and took a step backwards. I turned around to face him.
"Yeah, in a way."
"In a fucking way? You do or you don't simple as that."
"Things ain't as bloody black and white as you always make them to be."
Liam took two more steps backwards. I suddenly felt awfully weary.
"You do or you fucking don't and that's about it. Do you?&q
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