Hitting the Right Notes (15 page)

Yet, she could not feel her wings – the magical feeling of complete and absolute freedom that took over her every time she climbed on the stage and sang. Usually, from the moment she stepped on the stage all of her thoughts were silenced. She would become almost ethereal – only emotions and feelings were part of her. She would stop thinking or worrying, she would stop being her human self. She would become part of the music – something much greater and larger than her person, than her concerns and pains.

She was thinking as she kept on singing. She knew it was a dangerous line she was walking. It felt almost like being on the blade of a knife – it could cut any time a troublesome thought crossed her mind, but she would not prevent herself from thinking. Right now, she was not a Rock ‘n Roll diva, she was not a woman possessed with music – she was Darya – a woman hurting with so much pain, that she knew her body could crush under the weight of it any moment.

She had to continue to sing. She knew it. Her brain was able to emphasize that much.

Her biggest fear – the one she could feel approaching, the one that had shown all the signs and warned her so many times, yet she had ignored it purposefully. She had to accept the bitter realization of the truth that her return to the music world meant nothing if it was not making her beloved man happy. She wanted to bring back her past, which she knew had been gone for many years. She wanted to be that old self only to be bathed in that tender love that Eric felt towards DaYa. She thought she could become an illusion of herself.

Now, standing on the stage, trembling with her whole body and keeping on singing, Darya could feel every cell in her body respond to her emotions. She was alive as never before and she was so true to herself. For once she was not afraid to be honest with herself.
I am me – not his imagination, not their idol, not a diva or a goddess – I am myself.

And I despise myself for that same reason that I can’t be what all of them expect me to be.

I’ve been fighting so hard, yet now… I feel like I’ve reached the limits. I am on the verge and ready to collapse. No… I can’t do that… I have to sing. All these people are here for me to sing… I have to… I need to… I must.

She heard the chords of the new song – the one that had come so naturally to her. She had felt an immediate connection with the song, as if it was a prayer that she knew deep in her heart and now it had floated on surface and revealed itself to her.

“Raging Forgiveness,
she whispered the title before starting the first verse. She could feel the heavy burden of the song. She was not yet ready to forgive. She was hurting so much. Her eyes fell on the empty spot, where Eric was supposed to stand. He had not missed a single concert, yet he had abandoned her now. He had chosen DaYa and she could not forgive him for that.

Darya’s new music was quite different from what she had been composing 20 years ago, but Eric still lived in the past and tried to hold onto it with all his strength.
He tried to drag me back to past as well, but I don’t want to do it. I can’t be DaYa. I am not her anymore even if I still carry her stage name.

Every lyric of “Raging Forgiveness” hurt as she tried to sing it. Every word made a wound in her throat before escaping it. When she reached the line,
“I let my rage wash over me and forgive you for every sin me and you have made…”
Darya’s throat burned. For a second she almost tasted blood in her throat as her vocal chords were on the verge of breaking. The lyrics stuck inside her and refused to flow out.

It was ironic that the history was repeating itself. Darya stood there in silence as the band played the music of the song without her singing it. She stood there and looked into the eyes of her audience. She could see the disappointment in their eyes, but there was no surprise.

They have been expecting this,
Darya suddenly realized.

*

Hiding in the safety of her house was the only idea that came to Darya’s mind. She had locked herself in and refused to open the door and answer any phone calls. The weight of yet another failure was too heavy.

Anthony had threatened to break the door, but he had not done it yet.

She had more than twenty missed calls and voice mails from her mom. She knew that she was going to appear at her door any time now. Unlike Anthony, her mother’s threats would not be vain.

The only one who had managed to succeed to reach her was Kiara, but the news she brought had been grim as well. Darya did not care to hear all the details, but from what she had understood, Kiara had failed those negotiations she was in charge for. Darya’s company had lost most of its capital. Darya never cared about money. That was what she had told Kiara. She pretended it was all about money. She didn’t show how it hurt to realize that she had been betrayed by Kiara, but she also knew she was to be blamed in the first place.

Darya took a deep breath. She could not think about that right now, so she asked Kiara not to take any further steps, instead to wait for decision a week or two or however it took for her to come into terms with this new reality she was facing. What hurt the most was the realization that she had lost both her battles.

She had started her business career to fill the gap that the loss of music had caused in her life. Now, as she attempted to return to music, she had destroyed everything she had tried to create. Deep inside her, Darya knew that she had not been following her heart and instead was trying to make herself do what others wanted and expecting of her. Now, both her battles were lost.

But not the war,
Darya reminded herself,
hey D. wake up! You still have a war to win.

Every day Eric opened his eyes and thought that the world had turned into a much darker place than it had been the day before. There were some days when he didn’t even try to pull himself out of the bed. Why would he do that? There was nothing that he needed to accomplish; nobody who was waiting for him to dream, to push him forward, to struggle with everyday darkness that had been creeping inside him.

Living without a dream was painful – much more than he ever could imagine. Only a week ago he could hold that dream in his arms, whisper into her ear, feel the warmth of her body. Now, he had not only pushed his dream away from him, but had hurt her in the worst possible way.

Eric still could remember how he had left the concert – abandoning Darya. How he had been wandering in the streets for hours thinking over everything that had happened during the last months. How wonderful his life had become when he finally had allowed himself to grasp some happiness – to not be afraid to love and be loved.

But I was not able to separate the illusion from the reality. I got carried away.

Eric had gone back two hours later, thinking that the concert would be about to come to an end and he would have a chance to talk to Darya again. He needed to apologize. He needed to explain so much to her.

He had found the club empty – no fans, no musicians. One of the employees told him something about the crazy singer who had stopped singing on the stage. The guy was quite amused – he apparently didn’t like much the
“noise from the music”
and was quite happy that the crowd had left – he was enjoying the silence of the empty club. Eric almost hit the guy for being so insensitive and referring to Darya as “crazy singer.” But he knew that if there was anyone to be blamed it was himself. He had been the cause and the reason of whatever had happened here. And he was still afraid to imagine how painful it had been for her.

If Eric had been a stronger person, if he didn’t have the immature desire to immediately run away and hide, he would’ve hurried to Darya’s place. He would’ve begged her to forgive him, promised to make things right, help her overcome this and go forward. But though deep inside his heart he knew that was the right thing to do, his legs carried him back to his small apartment, where he could curl up in a corner and imagine that none of this had even happened.

He had found Margo waiting for him. Eric expected one of her furious moods. He half waited that she would charge at him, screaming and blaming him rightfully. She was the only person who did not pity him or spare him only because he was more fragile than others.

It took him a moment to register what was different about her – Alison was not there. The couple had been practically inseparable for years. They worked together in the same office, ate together, hanged out together, shared the same circle of friends and most importantly – both believed it was their ultimate duty to look after Eric and take care of him. He was endlessly thankful to them for that. Had he ever really expressed his gratitude properly? Or had be always behaved like a spoiled kid – taking everything for granted?

“Hey Margo, what are you doing here?” he leaned and kissed her cheek. Margo was unusually silent and that made Eric to start a conversation. He was sure she and Ali had a spare key to his apartment, but strangely, she was waiting outside. Eric felt unease. As he opened the door and both of them got inside, he could feel how tense she was. “What’s wrong? Where’s Ali?”

For a moment Eric wondered if they had had a fight. But those two never even argued.

“She went to check on Darya.” Margo still avoided looking him into the eyes. This sounded really bad. He knew he had hurt her, but only now he started understanding the whole weight of it.

Margo came closer and pulled him into a hug. She ran her hands up and down his spine to calm him, but Eric was perfectly calm – even worse, he was simply numb. He didn’t feel anything at all as he had locked his emotions deep inside him. He knew he could not handle the storm those raging emotions would bring, thus he had tucked them safely away. Eric had learned to do it back in his youth, when the anxiety and depression were his constant companions. It never made him feel better, but he had an illusion of false protection when he was not exposed to his own feelings and worries.

“Why could you not let yourself be happy, Eric? Why did you have to destroy everything good that both of you had finally achieved in the past months?” Margo was speaking almost in whisper. Eric would’ve begged her to scream and shout, to call him an idiot – all of that would maybe bring him back to senses and ease the pain that this silent whisper was causing.

“I can’t talk about it right now.” He shook his head and though it was good and safe to be in a friend’s embrace, Eric pushed her away.

“Well, if you are interested in what has happened after you left, you can call us,” Margo turned and started walking towards the door, then she paused for a moment before leaving. “You know, Eric, we are always here for you, but we can’t do much unless you want to let us or anyone help you.”

*

Eric knew he was his biggest enemy and lying in his bed for days had confirmed just that. He refused to let his friends close and didn’t dare to recall the unpleasant conversation he had had with Darya that last day. Ironically, now he called her Darya in his mind and he was fully aware that he was interested in what had happened to the fragile woman who had accepted him close to her heart instead of the star created by producers and media.

Recalling Margo’s words, Eric realized how much he had missed both of them he had not talked to Ali and Margo for over a week now. But he was not yet ready to face them. Instead, he made himself climb out of the bed and get dressed. Even that simple activity felt unusual, but Eric was determined to make one last effort before giving up on himself. There was only one destination that could save him and Eric hurried there.

He stood in front of Darya’s house for long minutes. The place felt too silent and cold. He knocked and rang the bell several times, but there was no answer.

Maybe she is out.

He waited until late evening, then came back the following day and also the next night. For a whole week

Eric kept coming and knocking at the door waiting and hoping that he would be granted another chance. But that was in vain. Eventually he gave up. She was not there might’ve left for good for all he knew.

Then everything sank into darkness again. Eric let his fears and absolute need for self-destruction to take over him. Every new day he was surprised to even be awake. Every new day was darker than the one before it and Eric would close his eyes and let himself fall into the claws of sleep and nightmares, which were still more welcome than the cold and dark of his reality.

Not two, but three battles.

Ironically, Darya felt a strange sting of satisfaction even though she realized that it had been not two lost battles, but three. Not that any of that gave her any kind of joy or comfort, but at least she knew she was being honest to herself and was ready to face the whole truth of her situation.

Three fierce battles: her unsuccessful music career, the troubles at work caused by Kiara, and most importantly the disaster in her personal life – the breakup with Eric. Well, Darya doubted it even qualified as a ‘relationship’ and ‘breakup’; it was only a short wonderful illusion, which was crashed when faced with their daily life.

Darya was not even sure which of the three lost battles hurt the most. Was it even possible to measure and compare them? Yet, she couldn’t help but blame herself and only herself for every single mistake she had made in every lost battle. Darya shook her head. Would she ever be able to forgive herself?

Someday.

Not today.

How was she still to win a war with such state of mind?

If there was one person on the planet Earth who was certainly never going to give up, it was Darya’s mother. Lucia Blake was a woman of great determination. First, she succeeded to move Darya out of her house and bring her to stay with her. Second, she would force a shopping trip or eating out at least every two days. Darya did not even have the nerve to disagree, thus, she’d simply follow Lucia’s lead – that at least prevented her mother from turning to extreme means in her attempts to cheer her up.