Painted Faces (29 page)

About midway through his act he struts over to the band and begins giving the guitarist instructions, whose name I think is either Liam or Lionel. I can't remember. Whenever Nicholas goes to speak with the band I always know he's asking them to play a song that isn't in the original set list.

When he makes his way back to his microphone stand he turns to look at me for a long moment and smiles playfully. What is he up to?

The band starts playing the recognisable intro to “Every Breath You Take” by The Police. It's not one of Nicholas' usual numbers, and certainly not his usual style. The next time he looks at me I give him a confused glance and in return he nods out to some spot beyond the stage. I look out past the curtain to the audience, but I don't notice anything unusual.

It's only when my eyes travel as far as the bar that they stop dead in their tracks. Sitting with a pint at his side and a serious expression on his face is Aaron. Good sweet Jesus. Would it be wrong to march right up to him and kick him in the balls? Maybe that would help him to get the message. Although I could be pointing a gun at him and he'd still think we were destined to be together. You can never get through to a head case.

His presence tonight shows that he really is unashamedly following me again. Something pinches at my lungs. A mixture of fear and irritation.

Then my brain goes a little loopy and I almost laugh thinking of how he would have had to force himself to swallow down his male pride and come into a gay bar to look for me. A moment later I do actually laugh as the significance of Nicholas' song choice hits me.

He's still singing, talking about how every breath I take and every move I make he'll be watching me. It couldn't be more apt in describing Aaron. For six whole months he hid in the shadows, watching me live my life. Only every once in a while would he venture out to harass me. I don't know which part was more disconcerting, the times when I felt he could be nearby but I couldn't see him, or the times when he'd actually come up and talk to me, making no effort to disguise the fact that he'd been stalking me.

I could hug Nicholas right now, because sometimes you need humour to bring you out of a dark place. I look to him again and he's on the brink of laughter as he sings. To be honest, I kind of wouldn't mind it if Nicholas were the one to be watching every move I make. When you're attracted to someone, extreme behaviour can be sort of...appealing. If Edward Cullen had of been ugly I'm sure Bella Swan wouldn't have been quite so smitten with him coming into her bedroom to watch her sleep at night. We females can be strange, shallow creatures when the mood takes us.

I look back to Aaron and my heart goes haywire, because he's staring right at me now. How did he manage to spot me all the way back here? Perhaps he has some kind of special stalker radar. He picks up his pint, takes a long gulp and stands up from the stool he'd been sitting on. With his eyes still glued to me, he starts walking through the bar and towards the stage. Nicholas is watching him approach with a wary expression. I wonder if Aaron gets that the song currently being played is intended to mock him.

The closer Aaron gets the more panicked I become. For a moment I consider running from the club. Then again, it's probably safer to stay here in a public place. The song ends just as Aaron hops up onto the stage, quick as lightning, and slips in behind the curtains. I fold my arms across my chest and muster a calm expression.

“
Fred, you lied to me the other day,” he says, crazy as you like, stopping right in front of me. “You thought you could fool me and expect me to believe that some fucking - I don't even know what the fuck that is supposed be out there on the stage – that that freak is your boyfriend?”

My jaw drops open. He's acting indignant, what the hell? Like he has a right to be pissed off. This is ridiculous.

“
Are you serious you fucking nut job?” I ask him deadpan. “What are you even playing at, coming here where I work and acting like you have a right to know anything about my life? Our whole relationship was a bloody joke. It ended years ago and you're still acting like we were some kind of star crossed lovers. I've told you this before and I'll tell you again Aaron, I never even liked you in the first place. You made my life extremely uncomfortable for a long time and now you're trying to do it again. And. I. Am. Not. Fucking. Having. It.”

I pause and run a hand through my hair, surprised at my own outburst. I didn't realise that I was suppressing so much of my anger until right now. Him acting like he has every right in the world to be here has caused me to explode.

“
I need you to come back to me,” he says in a dead, oblivious voice, not even acknowledging anything I've just told him.

“
It's been almost four years, can't you just get a clue and move on?” I say in exasperation.

The problem with Aaron is that he's never gotten violent or threatened me. I would have gone to the police if he had been. He's just been clingy, possessive, annoyingly obsessive and a touch mental. He's the kind of person who makes you want to create a resolution where you don't let any new people into your life for fear of them turning out to be like him.

He sighs. “I tried. I had a new girlfriend and everything, but she wasn't you. I broke up with her.”

“
You're being ridiculous. We're never going to happen ever again, so I suggest you join some online dating agency and keep searching for the one, because it certainly isn't me.” I'm already feeling sorry for whatever woman he might foist himself on next.

I hear the clicking of high heels as Nicholas walks off the stage and comes to stand beside me.

He levels Aaron with a hard glare, and even though he's in drag he still manages to come across as threatening, which is a feat in itself. “You have thirty seconds to leave the club before I call security,” he tells Aaron carefully.

Aaron looks Nicholas up and down. “Fuck off tranny, I'm talking to Fred.”

“
No you're not, and if you don't do as I say you'll have this tranny's high heel stuck up your arse in a minute.”

Aaron stares at Nicholas before he bursts out laughing. He's never been a laughing sort of a person, so when he does it's highly creepy. “Stay away from my arse, you fucking queer bastard.”

“
Oh you've got nothing to worry about there,” Nicholas retorts and wraps his arms tight around my waist. “Fred's arse keeps me occupied on a nightly basis.”

I snicker involuntarily and try to hold in my laughter.

“
That's sick,” Aaron narrows his gaze at me. “You're not actually with this freak, are you Fred?”

I take great satisfaction in the disgusted look on his face when I reply, “Oh I most certainly am, we're madly in love. You can come to the wedding if you like.”

Nicholas squeezes my hip and smiles down at me adoringly.

“
Wedding?” Aaron says, slow and steady, his eyes turning to slits.

“
Yes,
wedding
.” I state. “So you see, there's no chance for you and I Aaron, because I plan on loving, honouring and obeying this wonderful man until the day I die.”

I'm laying it on thick and heavy now, hoping he'll be disgusted enough with the idea of me marrying a drag queen that he'll leave and never seek me out again. For a second I have a cute image in my head of me and Nicholas actually getting married for real, with him in a wedding dress and me in a tuxedo.

Aaron's shaking his head back and forth like he can't believe what he's hearing.

“
You're both sick,” he spits.

He takes a step away and runs a hand over his jaw. He looks like he's about to say something more, but then he just turns and walks away, still shaking his head, like he can't get his mind around the idea.

“
I'm already looking forward to the wedding night,” Nicholas jokes, his arms still wrapped around me.

I smile up at him gratefully and let out a long sigh. “Thanks for coming and helping me with that. I'm sorry you had to interrupt your set for it.”

He stoops down so that we're at each other's eye level. He runs a finger over my bottom lip and stares at me with something like longing in his gaze. He shakes it off then, and I kind of wish he'd do whatever it was he was going to do a second ago. I wouldn't even care about how I'd look snogging the face off a drag queen.

“
What's a best friend good for if they can't help you fend off a crazy ex every now and again, eh?” he asks fondly.

“
Very true, Viv.” I shrug out of his hold and swipe him on the behind. “Now go get your pretty self back out there. You've still got another thirty minutes left in your set.”

He salutes me and saunters off onto the stage, apologising to the crowd and telling them that he had to take care of some urgent matters of the feminine hygiene variety. I laugh and go to the bar to get myself a drink. After my close encounter with Aaron, I think I deserve one.

On Saturday morning I sit and have breakfast with Nora and she tells me all about how her date with Richard went on Wednesday night. I've been spending so much time with Nicholas that we haven't had the chance to chat until now.

“
Yeah, he's nice,” she says, while buttering a slice of toast. “I definitely want to see him again, but I'm going to wait for him to call me. I really hate this part.”

“
I'm sure he'll call,” I tell her. “Just don't let your twitchy dialling fingers get the better of you. I bet you've been fretting over whether or not to call him every night since the date.”

She sighs. “Sometimes it's a little scary how well you know me, Fred.”

“
I know you better than anyone,” I joke, putting on a creepy voice. “Perhaps some day you'll open your eyes and see that I'm the one you really want.”

She laughs and threatens to fling the butter knife at me. “Shut up. By the way, how have things been on the Nicholas front?”

I shrug. “So, so. Nothing new to report really.” Except for how he can reduce me to a quivering mess with a simple look.

She takes a bite out of her toast and I can tell she's not really listening to me anymore. She's too wrapped up in her thoughts of Richard. She hops up from the table and goes to grab her laptop from the living area. She comes back and sets it down, before opening it up.

“
Let me show you Richard's Facebook page,” she says. “His profile picture is
hot
.”

She does some speedy typing and is then turning the screen around to show me a picture of Richard in some kind of forested area with a harness on, the ones you wear when you're about to abseil down a cliff.

“
He's definitely rocking the gun show,” I comment with a grin as I note his skin tight, short sleeved t-shirt. “I don't know Nora, I might have to rethink my evaluation of him. This picture is halfway to poser town. Are you sure he's not a dickhead in disguise?”