“Howie?”
“What’s up Kev?”
“Can we talk some?”
“Sure man. Talk to me”
“…”
“Kev? Train, are you OK?”
“Do you…oh man. It’s hard…”
“Kev?”
“Are you OK with all this Howie?”
Howie’s heart sunk. Having spent several years as band mates and close friends, he knew instinctively what Kevin was thinking, what he was feeling. They were practically brothers, and Howie was sure he could recognise the roots of Kevin’s melancholy in his own occasional depressions. However, the identification of this mutual emotion did not prevent Howie from feeling concerned. Kevin was the one who had kept the group together on so many occasions in the early days; without his perfectionism, his father figure status, his role as agony uncle, Howie had no idea where they would be today. Certainly not famous world wide, he thought wryly.
Howie made the decision to ignore Kevin’s solemnity: hoping that by not recognising it, they would not have to discuss it, and by not discussing it…Howie had a nagging feeling that he didn’t understand his own logic. In his heart he knew he should talk to Kevin, but oppressing that feeling he outwardly forced a blank expression. “All this? You mean the hotel?” asked Howie, referring in part to Nick and AJ’s earlier whinging that they were staying too far away from a decent night club.
“No, no. It’s…oh never mind.” Kevin snorted softly in frustration and walked to the door. As he stretched his arm lethargically to reach for the handle, Howie’s conscience got the better of him.
“Kev? Some days it gets a bit much for each of us. We all get lonely. We all have moments when we want to pack it in; give all this up and go back to an anonymous quiet life in a condo in the suburbs, complete with wife, two point four kids, a dog and a white picket fence.”
“How did you know-”
“We’re brothers Kev, two of a kind.” He smiled sympathetically, hoping to convey to Kevin that he wasn’t alone in experiencing occasional frustration at their pop-star life-style. “And Kevin, amid all the interviews and photo shoots and screaming and travelling, it’s important not to forget why we are doing this. We’re here for the performing, for the fans. For the ego boost when we see that we have touched someone through our music. That’s why we are here. Don’t forget that Kev.”
Kevin cast his eyes to the floor, and Howie momentarily worried that his words had failed to have an impact. Then, Kevin raised his head, and nodded, slow and laboured. “I won’t D. Thanks, I think that was what I needed to hear.” Then his expression brightened and he laughed. “Damn, when did you get so good at advice…you’re stepping on my turf!”
Kevin heard Howie chuckle as he stepped outside the hotel room. He leaned against the dingy corridor wall, his head against the cool paint. He tried to block out the sounds of AJ and Nick fighting somewhere further down the passage, and massaged his temples as Howie’s words reverberated around his head. “Some days it gets a bit much for each of us. We all get lonely”. Kevin appreciated Howie’s compassion and understanding, but was doubtful. If he was speaking the truth, then why did Kevin feel like he was the only one about to crack?
* * * *
“Mel?”
Melinda glanced up briefly and registered Nikita’s presence before reverting her gaze to the computer screen. “Hey Nikki. Didn’t see you there.”
“Melinda-”
Melinda paused from her typing to consider the implication of what Nikita had said. She saved her work and reached up to shut down the computer before turning to face her friend. “I sense this is going to be deep. You never call me Melinda.” Melinda grinned, hoping to lighten Nikita’s evidently serious mood.
“Mel!” Nikita’s sharp tone surprised Melinda. Obviously, the light-hearted approach wasn’t going to achieve anything.
“Sorry. What’s up?”
“I just needed to talk to someone. You are the only person I know that doesn’t judge, that doesn’t try to control me.”
“Nikita, you know I’d never do that…”
“I know. And I’m grateful, I really am. Mel…do you ever feel like everything is getting a bit much? Like you need a way out?”
Melinda knew Nikita well enough to know what she was thinking. She was fairly sure that she knew what was bothering her, but due to Nikita’s introspective character, most of her conclusions were drawn from observation: it was unusual for Nikita to confide in anyone, to avoid ‘burdening’ them. For her to be mentioning anything, Melinda knew it was serious. She also knew that having recognised that something had happened to Nikita to make her desperate enough to seek her advice, she had to be cautious and not push it too far. She played dumb, hoping Nikita would open up to her.
“Nikki, are you OK? What’s brought this on?” Nikita bottled it. “Oh…just forget it. I’ll see you later.” She got up and walked to the door. Melinda knew that her question had pressurised Nikita. She had overstepped the mark: Nikita had always been one to disclose information on her own terms. “Nikki, wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Melinda shook her head and started again. “Look, everyone gets a bit down sometimes, everyone wishes at sometime that they could just leave their life and start again. It’s not a crime to feel smothered by your surroundings.”
“Smothered. That’s putting it lightly. But Mel, if I’m smothered by people, then why do I feel so alone?”
“We all get lonely, Nikki. Every single person feels alone at times.”
Melinda watched Nikita’s face as she mulled this over. Eventually Nikita looked up to her friend and managed a half smile. “Thanks Mel. You’re right; I’m not the only one who feels a little depressed. You always manage to put everything in perspective.”
“It’s cool Nikki,” Melinda lied, knowing Nikita was trying to deceive both women. Inwardly she sighed; aware that she was not getting through to her best friend. She went for the last ditch attempt to make an impression: “And Nik, you always have the escape route option. Don’t be afraid to use it. Don’t forget that you can walk away from this; you can lead your life as you want, not as others want you too; you can achieve your goals, not those that other people have set out for you.”
Nikita heard Melinda turn up her stereo on and sing softly to herself
as she stepped outside the bedroom and wandered downstairs. She slumped
over the kitchen table, her forehead pressed against the cool wood. She
tried to block out the sounds of children playing outside, to
concentrate on Melinda’s words, which reverberated around her head. “We all get
lonely, Nikki. And Nik, you always have the escape route option. Don’t
be afraid to use it”. Nikita was doubtful. The escape route option
sounded enticing, but with it came the inevitable further loneliness
associated with beginning afresh, starting again. And would she get up the
nerve to get out before the persistent attentions of others forced her to
crack?
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