Some Comfort Here Ch. 04

"Going somewhere, Brandy?" Mae called from the counter as Brandon made his way towards the door.

They had returned home the day before on a ten-day break till the release of the album. Once the album launched, there would be promotions, signings, and more interviews.

He had not done much since he returned home, except sleep. His friends had dropped in to meet and it had been a good laugh, but he had not gone out anywhere. He needed to save up on the energy for what was to come.

"I'm going to meet Izzi, mam," he said, waving at her. "Be back in an hour."

The thought of meeting Isabel unnerved him a little. He had not spoken to her after that interview. His sister Yvonne had called him the day the interview came out in the paper to ask if that was true. His mother had called as well. He'd half-expected Ben's mother to also call but she had not, mercifully. It was not a nice feeling to have to explain to every person that it wasn't true— Louis had linked him with Jessica and started the rumour just for sheer publicity, and he definitely wasn't single, only trying to protect Isabel from unwanted attention by hiding their relationship.

And then things had blown out of proportion when a whole feature had been done on them the week after, declaring the five of them as single, footloose, and available. They had even been asked the type of girls each of them liked and they'd had to make up some garbage. Poor Mark, he did not even fancy girls. Brandon felt more sorry for his friend him than he did for himself.

He had called Isabel to explain himself, but Emily had answered the phone and told him that she was down with fever and could not talk.

Damn. All this, just when they were finally getting somewhere with the relationship.

Brandon shoved his hands in his pockets and walked past houses, parked cars, and billboards, spotted himself in a poster on a wall. He worried about Isabel. He'd asked Ben about her after they'd come home, and he'd said she was better. But he still wanted to see her. Talk to her. Explain that he did love her and she shouldn't pay heed to all that trash about them in the media.

Two girls walked past him, stopping short when they recognized him. Brandon lifted the hood of his jacket to hide his face and practically ran the rest of the way to Ben's house. The last thing he needed on the way to meet his girlfriend was to be mobbed by a group of fans.

He rang the doorbell and waited impatiently, tapping his foot and keeping his head down, in case someone recognised him. At other times, it would've been great. But he just wasn't in the mood now. Not when he was dying to see Isabel.

"Hi, Brandy." Emily opened the door with a smile. "Come in."

He politely smiled and walked in, looking around for Isabel. She was nowhere to be seen, though. It was evening. He wondered if she had gone out with her brother.

"Ben just went out with his dad," Emily said, leading him to the living room. "Would you like some tea?"

"Umm... okay," he nodded, taking off his jacket and putting it on the coat rack. He quickly glanced at the door of Isabel's room that was slightly ajar. "How's Izzi?" he asked hesitantly.

"Better. Still a little weak, though." She turned off the TV and headed for the kitchen. "She's napping. You want to spend some time with me till she wakes up?"

Brandon did not see any reason to refuse. He would not leave without meeting Isabel, so he had to wait. With a nod of acquiescence, he followed her into the kitchen.

"Feels great to be back home, doesn't it?" She smiled, as she went about making the tea. Brandon returned the smile, sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island.

"Yes. It can get lonely on the road," he said, glancing around the kitchen that he must have seen for as long as he'd seen his own kitchen.

"Lonely?" Emily gave him a surprised glance, picking the box of tea from the top shelf. "With the five of you together?"

He laughed. "We miss home," he sighed. "Not professional popstars yet." He chewed on his bottom lip, measuring his next words. "How did Izzi fall ill?"

"Not sure." Emily turned off the stove and dipped in the tea, before coming up to sit on the opposite side of the island. "She started running a high temperature since her exams ended. Part of me thinks she hasn't been getting enough sleep, part of me feels she's just stressed about all that's happening in her life..." She sighed, lacing her fingers on the countertop. "She also had a panic attack a couple of days ago. It was bad."

Brandon's eyes widened. "I thought she didn't get them anymore," he said, slightly troubled. "She's been better."

"That's what we thought as well," Emily nodded. "But that night I was woken by the sound of her being sick in the bathroom. We found her cold and sweaty, trembling all over."

"Did she have a nightmare?"

"Possibly. She couldn't say anything, she was too shaken." She shook her head. "Her nightmares raise their ugly heads sometimes. And why not? The terrible things she's been through..."

She rose to pour the tea and returned with two mugs and cookies on a tray. "It's good that you came," she said. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

His stomach flipped. Was it about that interview or that article? He hoped not, but in all likelihood it was.

"About what?" He sipped on the tea, the delicious warm beverage doing nothing to alleviate his nervousness.

"About you and Izzi." She picked up her teacup, going into therapist mode. Emily was different from other mothers. She understood everything just by looking at a person's face. Sometimes she played it cool, sometimes she sat them down and talked like a friend. She studied reactions and emotions, helped people deal with their own feelings and know their own mind.

"I want you to be honest with me, okay?" She said with a gentle smile. "I'm not a parent right now. I'm a friend. Talk to me openly. Right?"

"Is anything wrong, Mrs B?" His hands trembled a little even as he asked that. When your girlfriend's parent sat you down and gave you a talk, it definitely meant something was wrong.

"No." Sipping her tea, Emily looked at him over the rim of the cup. "Do you think there is?"

He opened his mouth, but then closed it and shook his head. He did not want to think anything was wrong.

"Alright. So a simple question." She paused to study his face. "Are you serious about Izzi?"

Brandon stared, his mouth agape. It was because of all that trash in the press. She was already doubting him.

"I am," he said quietly. "I know why you're asking and I want you to know that I care about Izzi. I know she is young and vulnerable, and I'm--"

"Brandy, I'm not asking for explanations," she shook her head. "Neither am I saying all this only because Izzi is young and vulnerable." Sighing, she sipped her tea again. "I know you care about her. You always have, since you first met her two years ago. But after everything that happened to her, it's just natural that we worry. I don't want her to have her heart broken. You know what I mean, right?"

He nodded dumbly again.

"Good." She nodded with a deep exhale. "The thing is, a relationship is about responsibility and commitment. It's about trust. Given Izzi's history, it isn't surprising that her sense of trust is really fragile right now. You understand that, don't you?"

"I do," he nodded, his gaze low.

"Have you ever wondered if you're getting into something you cannot fulfil? If you're even ready for a serious relationship, now that you're getting famous and successful?"

"I have. I love her, Mrs B, and I want to make her happy." He ran his hand through his hair, not sure how else to explain himself. "I cannot imagine anyone else in her place."

"I know. But are you sure you'll be able to keep the trust that she's placed in you? Showbiz is hard and you're very young. Can you handle it?"

"You... you mean the things in the press about us the last few weeks, don't you?" He finally blurted. "About me being single, dating somebody else...?"

Emily's smile was sad. "Look, we know most of the things in the press aren't true, whether it's about you or about anybody else. We know Louis. We know how manipulative he can be. He'll go all out to promote the five of you."

Reaching over, she touched his hand. "The problem is, Izzi doesn't see that. She isn't at a stage where she'll be able to sieve the truth from the false."

"Aunt Emily?"

It was Isabel, like a child searching for her mother after waking up. Emily motioned him to come up. He did.

"Come on," she smiled, taking his arm. Isabel was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She looked well-slept.

"Izzi?" Emily entered her room, smiling. "Are you feeling alright, honey?" Sitting beside her, she gave her a cuddle. Isabel yawned like a kitten, nodding. Brandon felt his heart break at the sight. He had hurt her. Played with her trust. Who knew, maybe she had got the panic attack because of him.

"Would you like some tea?" Emily asked her. She shook her head, her eyes still half-closed. "Some chips, then?"

She shook her head again, moving hair out of her face. "Is Ben home?" she asked, her voice throaty.

"No, but he'll be back in a while. Brandy is here to meet you, by the way." Emily pointed at the doorway. Brandon forced a smile when Isabel gave him a fleeting glance and raised a hand in greeting. Kissing her forehead, Emily rose from the bed, proceeding to leave the room.

"I'll leave you kids to talk," she smiled at him, giving him a pat on the back. Brandon hesitated before entering the room. Isabel was not looking at him. She was seated in the middle of her bed, clad in a pair of pyjama pants and a long sleeve t-shirt. Her gloves were by the side of the pillow, but she had not reached for them yet. He entered the room, the door closing behind him.

"How are you now?" he asked hesitantly, stepping closer to the bed. She nodded wordlessly and scratched her hair.

"You?" she asked quietly. Brandon found that encouraging. He gathered the courage to sit beside her.

"I'm fine." He bit his lip, thinking of a way to continue the conversation that did not seem forced. "Your exams are over, right?"

"Yes. Irish was tough. Why does the verb have to come before the subject?" She yawned again. "The rest was easy. English was good. French was good too."

She looked at him, pressing her lips together. "I'm sorry. You aren't interested in this."

He smiled, but resisted the urge to reach over and pull her into an embrace. Instead, he wondered what else he could say. Isabel clearly was not in the mood to talk. He was, though. As difficult as it was, they still needed to have that conversation.

"Izzi," he began cautiously. "I want you to know that not everything in the press about us is true." He gulped, gathering all the strength he had. "We've been asked by Louis to lie about our relationships. It's sheer publicity."

"I know."

Brandon's eyes widened. "You... you know?"

She nodded. "I'm not good for your image. I know."

He involuntarily shook his head, his face saddening. "You're not good for my image?" he asked to make sure he had heard it right.

"Yes. You're handsome and talented and popular. You'll be big in life. It isn't healthy for you to be associated with someone like me." She shrugged. "I'm mental. Scarred. I understand."

"Izzi..."

"No, really. Imagine when people find out that you're with a girl like me, while Nathan is with the prime minister's daughter...." She looked into his eyes, her face impassive. "Can you imagine the comparisons that will be made?"

"That's not true!" He raised his hands in defense. "It's Louis who linked me to somebody else. And I need to say I'm single because I want to protect you. In a couple of years—"

"You'll be with me for that long?" Isabel frowned. "I don't even know what tomorrow will be like, and you're thinking two years ahead?"

"Because I want to be with you forever. All that trash about myself and Jessica Forsman has been made up by Louis." He sighed, finally taking her hand. "Izzi, I swear, I'm not with anybody else."

"I don't care. You have the luxury of dating and flirting and having fun. I don't." She scrambled down from bed, picked up a bottle of water from the table and took a few long gulps, before wiping her mouth with the back of her palm. "My life isn't fun. I don't have anything. I don't have parents, I don't have a home. I don't have the promise of a secure future. I cannot afford to waste my time or energy on you. I need to build my life. Get out of here. Be able to ensure my own safety without having to depend on others."

She put the bottle down on the table with a thud. "I appreciate what you do for me," she sighed. "But you aren't obligated to me. You can find someone better."

"You're wasting your time and energy on me?" Brandon's eyes welled up as the words registered. "I thought you loved me."

"Love is a luxury." She crossed her arms and leaned against the night table. "I have to think of Leaving Cert now. Not love." Shaking her head, she stared at her feet. "You're famous. You'll go places, meet different people. And you'll realise there are far better girls than me in the world, and you'll miss out if you remain with me. I don't want you to miss out. I want you to live."

"You don't love me?"

"How does it matter? I thought you liked blondes with great legs who wear short skirts and high heels. So why me? Because Ben trusts you and wants you to keep me safe?"

"Because I'm in love with you." He rose from the bed and moved closer to her. "I have never taken pity on you, Isabel. I've only loved you, cared about you. Just... Please try to understand. If I make our relationship public, it will become difficult for you to live in peace. They'll be after you, everyone will want a piece of you."

"It's not about me. I'm not thinking of myself here." She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to untangle the tresses. "I'm thinking of you. Your life, your future. I'm a broken, shattered, socially-awkward girl with a terrible past. I can never make you happy."

"You do make me happy. Izzi..." He cupped her face. "I cannot imagine life without you."

"You're not thinking. What if you don't feel this way in six months? I'm not your responsibility. You have an image to maintain now. You need someone who can dress up and go to parties with you, get drunk with you. I completely understand if you date others. You are free to. Or you can be single if you want to. I never asked you to remain associated with me, anyway."

"You... you're breaking up with me?" His voice seemed to catch in his throat. Isabel was flat and cold. There was no telling if it was anger, hurt, or just her insecurities speaking. She cocked her head to the side and sighed, as if explaining something to a five-year-old.

"You deserve better," she said. "Someone who's normal. Who doesn't make you regret all this in future."

"I won't—" he began, but then stopped short. There did not seem to be much point trying to make her understand. If she was anything, it was stubborn. It was hard to break down her walls and get to her.

"Okay." Sighing, he turned around, fisting his hands by his sides. "But I cannot love anyone else. You're the only girl I want."

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Isabel unmoved. He shook his head, then walked out as fast as he could.

"Brandon? Are you okay?" Emily saw him from the kitchen. He picked up his jacket and nodded quietly.

"I'm going home," he said to her. "Thanks for the tea, Mrs B."

He had opened the door and stepped outside when he saw Ben and his dad approaching. They had groceries in their hands and were laughing and talking.

"Hi, Brandy," Ben smiled at him, but it faded when he saw his sad countenance. He quickly waved at him and his father and tried to walk past, but Ben called out. He did not stop.

"Brandy, wait!" He ran after him and blocked his way, a deep frown on his brow.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Why do you look upset?"

Brandon looked up at him, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. "I think Izzi just broke up with me," he said quietly.

"What?" Ben's mouth dropped open. Brandon brushed past him, his feet picking up speed, and then he ran the rest of the way.

---

Sundays were always the busiest day at the restaurant. Not only did people come there to eat but also to meet friends and have a laugh. Since the opening hour, they had already served a multitude of hamburgers, burritos, fish and chips, and coffee. And it was only ten-thirty in the morning with the rest of the day ahead of them.

Brandon was hanging around at the counter, manning the chip fryer, occasionally running errands for his parents. He had not been happy after he returned from Ben's house two days ago. Of course, his friend had paid him a visit and assured him that Isabel would eventually come around, but it had not helped. Worse than her thinking she was someone to be ashamed of was her thinking that he deserved better.

Like how much better could it be than her? She was a brilliant student, more talented and intelligent that he'd ever be. She was the most beautiful girl in town. Most importantly, she was the first girl he had truly loved. She made him happy. And yet he had to keep it all under wraps, even if it caused misunderstandings or made her walk away from him.

He wanted to kill Louis. And then shout out from rooftops that he was in love with the most amazing girl in the whole universe. But realistically, he could not do either.

"When are they coming to shoot the documentary?" Mairead asked him, swinging by with a tray.

Oh, that.

So he had bought a car, his first car. And it was a BMW 3 Series. It was second-hand, but nobody else drove a BMW in the town, so it was something special, even if he had blown all his advance money on it. A production company from Dublin wanted to shoot a short documentary on him, a day in the life of Brandon Steven Fletcher. He was going to take them around town, show them places that meant to him, take them down to the barn, and proudly display his new purchase. As the frontman of the band, he was an inspiration for other country lads. If he could make it big, so could they.

"Not sure," he shrugged, "They'll let me know."

"I'm so excited!" His sister beamed, blue eyes twinkling with delight. "My little brother is a star."

He frowned at her. "I'm only two years younger than you, if that helps," he rolled his eyes. "And I'm not a star. It's just—"

The phone rang. Brandon picked it up since everyone else looked busy.

"Brandy?" It was Ben on the other end, voice laced with worry. "Is Izzi there?"

"No..." He still looked around the place just to make sure he had not missed her. "Why?"

"She isn't there? Oh, no! Dad, she isn't at the café!" He shouted out to Thomas. "I've called Kyle and Mark, asked around the neighbourhood, but she's nowhere," he explained.

"When did she leave?" Brandon was worried now. "Didn't she say where she's going?"

"We woke up to find her missing," Ben said. "We thought she'd gone for a walk maybe, but she still isn't back."

"Does she have her phone?"

Ben sighed tiredly. "Does she ever?"

"Jesus!" Brandon looked around in confusion, not sure what to do. "I'll go and look for her."

"Where?"

"Everywhere. It's a small town. She's still somewhere here unless she's managed to cross the sea to England." He put down the phone, grabbed his jacket and turned to leave.

"Brandy?" It was Mairead, looking on horrified. "She's okay, right?"