Some Comfort Here Ch. 03

Brandon was fairly certain Nathan had nicked his jacket again.

It wasn't the first time, not for any of them. When you were all on the road together, suitcases tossed in and run from bus to hotel more times than should be possible, things were likely to get mixed up. Or borrowed. Or conveniently removed and not returned. Ben had been wearing a pair of jeans for the last six months that Brandon was almost certain had originally belonged to Mark, and Kyle's hairspray constantly running out was probably not due to overuse but the fact that Nathan had started borrowing it when he wasn't looking.

Not that Brandon wasn't guilty. He wasn't quite sure where the comb in his pocket had come from, he just knew that Mark used to have one an awful lot like it.

It was his damn jacket, though.

Kyle was napping on the bed next to his, but he wasn't sure where the others were. Ben and Mark were talking about going shopping so they were probably out. Nathan could be in his room if he wasn't out as well.

London had been feeling a little too nippy ever since they landed from Mexico, and he needed his jacket.

He pushed off the bed. Nathan wasn't far away, just a few doors down the hall. He ambled down the hallway and was about to knock on the door when he heard Nathan's voice, probably talking to someone.

"Come on. I miss you." He sounded like he was pouting. Nathan's voice was husky, shrill, and a little bit croaky, making him ideal for the preppy numbers they did. But right now, it sounded deep and enticing. Brandon wondered who could be on the other end of the phone, since he couldn't hear anyone else in the room.

"Why not?" His voice was low, a bit sooky. "I love you."

Brandon's eyes widened in realization. He was probably talking to his girlfriend, Gillian. As funny as Nathan was, he could be absolutely soppy when it came to love. He'd heard him spend entire nights on the tour bus talking to her on the phone, acting like a love-sick puppy.

"Aw, baby..." Nathan soothed. "Poor thing. Can I kiss it all better?"

There was a laugh from him. "I will. I promise. Kiss you all over," he sighed.

Brandon shook his head. He was, in all likelihood, trying to entice her into having phone sex. Not surprising at all, considering they spent so long away from home. From what they'd seen of Gillian, she was a firecracker. And the Prime Minister's daughter, of course.

The fact that Nathan was in a relationship with the Taoiseach's daughter was something only the four of them knew. They had been together since 16, and had a really strong chemistry. They were 20 now, and totally loved up. But since they were an up and coming boyband, with young girls as the target audience, they had to hide their relationships as best as possible.

He turned away from the door, deciding to not interrupt his private moment. When he entered his room, Kyle was awake and idly switching from one TV channel to another.

"Hey," he looked at him as he walked back to his own bed and collapsed. "Where have you been?"

"Just...around." He shrugged, reached for his phone on the side table. They were supposed to be at a club for a gig that night. That meant more makeup, costumes, and fancy moves. They were also scheduled to appear on the Late Late Show after the gig. That meant answering more questions on their upcoming album. "What are we watching?"

"There's nothing on TV," Kyle shook his head, then yawned. "You want to pick a movie?"

"Not in the mood, really." Brandon sank back against the satin-y pillows and sighed. Mexico had been fun, shooting for the music video, plus lots of shopping, sightseeing and eating. He'd shopped for himself-- jackets, shades, shoes. He'd also shopped for his family, though he wasn't sure when he'd actually be able to give them the things.

His phone rang. The number was that of his home phone. It was his dad on the line when he answered.

"Hi dad," he smiled. "We're back in London. How's everything?"

"Everything's fine, son," he could hear his dad smile. "Your mam wanted me to check if you lads had landed yet."

"We did a couple of hours ago," he looked at Kyle, who was watching a music video with the sound muted. "You guys are being flown down next week for the gig, right?"

"Oh, yes. We are." His dad laughed. Their gigs were still really small, but they were getting bigger, with everyone wanting a piece of them. Their security had also been increased after certain untoward incidents by fans, either at airports, in front of hotels, or outside their cars. Now they had two guards each wherever they went.

They were the support act for Mariah Carey next week, after having recorded a duet with her for their first album, and their families were being flown in for the gig. It would be a new and exciting experience for both them and their parents.

"Ben's parents are also coming, right?" He asked, although he knew they were. As busy as they were, they still tried to be present at most of their performances.

"Yes, I think they are," his dad replied. "Thomas is home and Emily sounded very excited about watching you lads."

"Oh." He ran a finger through his hair, felt Kyle's eyes on him. He knew what Brandon was thinking, why the sudden interest in Ben's parents. "I'll probably get to meet you after the show, then," he said, dropping the subject. "Say hi to mam from me."

"You take care of yourself," his dad said. "We'll see you next week."

He stared at the screen of the phone long after the call had ended. It was only when Kyle spoke that he was jerked out of his thoughts.

"You okay?" He asked, balancing the remote on his knees. Brandon nodded. Kyle smirked, turning back to look at the TV.

"Thinking of Izzi, aren't ye?" he asked, humour in his voice. Brandon didn't want to admit it, but he nodded anyway. Kyle laughed.

"What?" He frowned at him.

"Just..." He switched a channel, stopped on a random movie. "I'd never thought you'd fall in love with her," he laughed again. "I mean, you've gone out with the most popular girls in the town. You used to have a new girlfriend every week, remember? And then you get hooked to Izzi." He looked at him, that cheeky smirk plastered to his face. "I thought you go for the blondes."

"Izzi is better than all of those girls combined," he defended her. "At least she doesn't give me a headache with perfume or makeup or constant chatter."

"That's if she talked at all."

"She does talk. You have to know the right things to say to her."

"Uh-huh? And what are they?"

Brandon shot a glare at Kyle. He hadn't changed one bit. Still the rascal trying to bully others. Even when he knew Isabel's history.

"Why are ye so interested? He snapped without meaning to. "Haven't you got a girl of your own?"

"At the moment, no." He bounced his legs, his eyes fixed on the movie. "Don't worry. I'm not after her. You're the only sane person who'd want to be with a weirdo like her."

"She's gone through hell, Kyle," his voice rose a little. "How would you feel if you were locked in a basement, starved, and beaten up? Or thrown against the wall? Or..."

He trailed off, the very images nauseating him. He closed his eyes, shook his head to clear his mind and got off the bed.

"Fuck you." Brandon snapped at Kyle as he left the room and shut the door behind him.

"Hey Brandy. I was about to go get you." Nathan was leaving his room, smiling. "Your jacket was in my bag. Here."

He threw the familiar brown leather at him. Brandon grabbed his jacket and slipped it on, walking slowly towards his blonde friend.

"Are you okay, mate?" Nathan asked when he was close enough. Brandon nodded.

"Kyle's being an eejit," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "He can be such a..."

"It's okay." Nathan put an arm around him. "He's young and reckless. He'll get better, you'll see."

"I hope so. Because I don't think I'll keep his face intact if I hear him talking like that about Izzi again."

Nathan frowned. "What did he say?"

Brandon sighed, starting to walk down the hallway. "Mean things," he murmured, shoving his hands inside his pockets. "I don't know how he can say all that about her. He knows her story... He should be more considerate."

"He's probably just jealous because she chose you and not him." Nathan put his arm around him again, stroking his back. "Ignore what he says. When he falls in love, he'll understand."

"I don't think he'll ever understand someone like her," Brandon shook his head, Nathan's arm still around his shoulders.

"No. But he'll understand your feelings. Why you do what you do for her." He patted his back. "Izzi is a sweet girl. I can't even bring myself to imagine what she must've gone through all these years, but..." He smiled, tussling his hair. "...I love the way you love her. When we tour together, I'm sure she'll get along great with G."

"You think that day will come? When we tour together?" Brandon's hazel-green eyes glistened with tears. Nathan hugged him properly this time. He got him, knew how he felt. It wasn't for nothing that he thought Nathan was the most sensible guy in the band, and it didn't have anything to do with the fact that he was also the oldest among them.

"I do," he said. "Don't you?"

"I don't know, Nat," he pulled away, tears blurring his vision. "She's so fragile... She doesn't even seem human anymore. She doesn't smile, doesn't cry, doesn't show any emotion." He looked away, closing his eyes. The tears dripped down his face. "She doesn't sing. I can't even remember now what she used to sound like singing."

"Except when your phone rings," Nathan laughed softly. That was true. His ringtone was Isabel singing Amazing Grace for him. It was probably the most emotional rendition of the song he'd ever heard. The first time she sang it to him, he couldn't stop crying.

"I know how you feel," Nathan nodded, holding his arms. "She'll get over this, no matter how long it takes. The worst is over. Now...she only needs time to heal."

Brandon nodded, wiped off his tears. Nathan thumped his back. "You want to grab lunch?" He asked. Brandon nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll go get Kyle. You see what Ben and Mark are up to. They should be back by now."

Brandon nodded again, forced a smile, and headed further down the hallway, towards Ben and Mark's room.

*

Mark peeped at the audience from behind the curtain. They were mental. It had to be the biggest crowd they'd performed to so far. And why not. It was the biggest music venue in London.

"It's crazy out there!" He announced, coming back to the dressing room. "Four thousand people! Can you imagine?"

Nathan turned, smearing his hair with a generous amount of mousse.

"Yeah? Saw anyone?"

"Nope. Too dark there." He came in front of the mirror, checking his own hair. "I'm sure our families have arrived. They have VIP seating."

He turned to look at Brandon, who on other days would be bouncing around the place like a rubber ball. He was the most energetic one in the band, always full of mad vigour and enthusiasm that had less to do with him being the lead singer and more with his passion for the job. It had to be the best job in the world.

That night, however, he was swinging in a revolving chair, lost in thought.

"You alright, Brandy?" Mark asked him. He finally looked up, gave a faint nod. Ben looked up from his shoe laces.

"You look down," he observed. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." He sighed, dropped his head back. He didn't want to admit he was missing Isabel, wondering if she'd come to watch them at their biggest gig yet. Okay, it was a support act, but they had got the chance because they were brilliant.

He wanted Isabel to be there, witness the moment. Wanted to share his joy with her.

A hand came on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Ben smiling reassuringly at him.

"Don't worry." He nodded. "I'm sure she'll be there."

*

She wasn't.

Their stage time was no more than fifteen minutes, but it was crazy. The crowd cheered them madly, threw stuff like bras, knickers, and teddy bears at them, and held up suggestive banners. It didn't feel like they were only a support act. They owned the stage for those few minutes.

Even amid the madness, Brandon searched for Isabel in the audience. He could spot his parents, his siblings, even his nephew. Two of his friends were also there. And then he thought, maybe she was too shy to sit amid the audience and would choose to come and meet them backstage.

But she wasn't there either.

He wanted to cry. He hadn't seen her in more than three weeks, had spoken not more than once or twice at night, and both the times he'd been pretty tipsy. He missed her. Wanted to see her, hold her. Talk to her properly.

Once he'd caught up with his family, he made his way towards Ben's parents. They hugged him, congratulated him on their brilliant performance.

"Didn't Izzi come?" He asked them, unable to hold back any longer. Thomas and Emily exchanged glances and then looked at him like he'd asked something odd. Like he was stupid to expect Isabel to come and cheer for him amid a 4000-strong audience when she barely spoke to anyone or left her room.

"She didn't want to come," Emily said, smiling weakly. "And she has school tomorrow, a class test too. We didn't force her."

Thomas came forward, holding him affectionately by his arms. "Brandy, as much as you miss her, you have to remember that she isn't fit to come to a place like this at the moment," he explained. "She just wants to be left alone. She needs space."

"And crowds make her uncomfortable," Emily added. "She doesn't even listen to music anymore."

Brandon nodded. None of that was news to him. He knew Isabel just as well as they did. But damn, he missed her. He blinked, willing the tears to go away.

"Is she okay?" He asked, speaking around the lump in his throat.

"She fine," Emily nodded. "And if it helps, she misses you too."

"She does?" His eyes widened. "Does she...does she ask about me?"

"All the time, lad," Thomas laughed. "Ask your parents, they'll tell you better. She's always asking about you, about all of you. She may not be here, but she supports you all the same."

Brandon's hand went to his chest. He inhaled deeply, trying to not get emotional all over again. He knew Izzi was there. When he'd spoken to her the other day, he hadn't asked if she was going to come to the show, because he wanted her to give him a surprise. But even when she wasn't there, he knew she still loved and supported him. It was because of her he'd got into the band in the first place.

It wasn't until 1 a.m. that they made it back to their rooms. They had probably emptied all the vodka in the bar, and then stumbled into the car, plastered. Kyle had crashed on his bed fully clothed and started to snore right away. The others hadn't been any better. Brandon could tell he was still sober than the other lads because he was awake at 3 a.m.

He fumbled for his phone in the dark, accidentally knocked his watch down, and then finally decided to switch on the lamp. Kyle had rolled over, now only in his underwear. He'd probably stripped off his clothes in his sleep. Brandon wondered how he did that.

Phone in hand, he debated if he should remain in the room or go out. Kyle was drunk and unconscious, so it wouldn't matter. It was really late. He was tired and drunk. But he couldn't sleep. Not without...

He pressed the number on speed dial. Isabel had a mobile phone but she hardly ever used it. So he tried the house phone. One of the extensions remained in her room, and with Ben's parents staying over in London for the night, she'd be the one to pick up, if at all. There was no way Elsa was receiving a call at 3 in the night. Not even a bomb could wake her up.

When the phone started to ring on the other end, Brandon sat up, bouncing his legs uneasily. It was wrong to wake her up at that ungodly hour. She had school the next day. She'd do badly in the test if she didn't sleep well.

Oh damn.

And just then the call connected.

"Hallo?"

Brandon couldn't breathe. Isabel's sleepy, throaty voice down the line poured into his ears, ran through his veins.

"Izzi?" He said, his voice almost a whisper, not wanting Kyle to hear him. There was a long pause.

"Brandy?" There was recognition in her voice. "It's 3 in the night."

"I know." He glanced at the sleeping form of Kyle, then shuffled down from the bed, opened the door and walked barefoot out of the room. "I couldn't sleep... I..."

"You're drunk." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Isabel didn't like people getting drunk. She could never understand why anyone would want to drink so much that it deprived them of their senses.

"I'm still a lot sober than the other lads," he tried to explain. "I'm just... I'm sorry I woke you up--"

"No. I was awake."

Brandon frowned. "Awake? At 3?"

"I woke up an hour ago. Thought of revising for the test today."

"Couldn't sleep?" There was a faint smile on his lips, but he felt bad deep inside whenever she couldn't sleep because of the nightmares. She was on sleeping pills, but she often cheated and tried to sleep on her own. It would hardly ever help and she'd go through the next day with tired eyes and a confused mind.

"I'm fine," she said. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Because I'm missing you." He leaned against the wall, the small chandelier above him drawing his silhouette on the carpeted floor of the hallway. "You didn't say you wouldn't be here today."

"You didn't ask."

"Ben said you'd be here for the show."

"I didn't tell him anything. He must have lied." There was a pause again, the sound of pages turning. "How was the show?"

"Amazing," he sighed, closing his eyes. His legs seemed wobbly. He looked around for someplace to sit, but there was nothing except a long, deserted hallway. "Wish you were here."

"I'm not fit company."

"That's what you think. To me you're the best company in the world."

"That's because you're an eejit."

Brandon didn't miss that. Eejit, was it? So she was slowly turning Irish. The realisation made him smile.

"No, just in love with you." He sank to his feet, crouched on the floor, just in between his and Nathan's rooms. "So in love with you. You're beautiful."

"And you're really stoned. Please go to sleep. Don't you have anywhere to be in the morning?"

"I can't remember. Anto'll remind us."

Anto was their tour manager, always trying to herd them, discipline them. He only ended up frustrated most of the time, because they were wild and uncontrollable. Just what you'd expect from lads barely out of their teens.

"Poor Anto," Isabel sighed. "You give him grief."

"We're only kids," he pouted.

"Kids earning millions, huh?" She yawned, and he heard a page turn again. "I think you should go."

"I'm bothering you?"

"Kind of. I'm trying to revise my lessons here." She yawned again. "Still a school girl, you see."

Brandon laughed quietly, totally adoring her sweetness. Despite all that she had experienced in her young life, she was never mean to anybody. His mom had loved their pair from the first day, gone on to tell him a lot of times that she'd be a fine woman in future, perfect for him.

"What about the writing contest?" He remembered suddenly.

"I've sent my stuff. Not hoping for anything really."

"I am."

"The money?"

"Your smile," he sighed. "You don't smile anymore." He wanted to say she didn't cry anymore either, but it didn't matter.

"There's nothing to smile about."

They'd had that conversation before and she had always said the same thing. At 3 in the night, it didn't make sense arguing about it again, especially when he was drunk.

"I should be home in two weeks," he said, his speech turning a little slurry. He got to his feet or he feared he'd fall asleep right there on the hallway. "Is there any way I can see you before that?"