Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Starting at the Beginning	By : Katma Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Savage Garden Views: 2042 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Savage Garden. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Darren woke the next morning with a pounding headache. He rolled over enough to peer
at the clock through slit eyelids. Then he moaned and flopped back on the bed. Leonie would be at his door any minute now to get him up, and he was completely unprepared to face the day. Crying yourself to sleep is not conducive to a good night’s rest, Darren reflected dryly. He snuggled himself deeper into the blankets, closing his heavy, scratchy eyes. Maybe Leonie would belate. Or even better, would forget about breakfast and leave him until soundcheck. The thought had no sooner crossed him mind than Leonie began pounding on the door.

“Darren! Darren, are you up?”

“Yeah, Leo, I’m up,” Darren called back, reluctantly pushing himself to an upright position.

“You’d better be!” Leonie threatened, half-teasing, half-serious. “If you’re not down there at 8:30, I’m coming up and getting you, got it?”

“Got it. I’ll be there.”

“See you there,” Leonie said, then left.

Darren listened to her footsteps recede down the hall and contemplated going back to sleep, but decided an angry Leonie was not something he wanted to deal with this morning. He pushed himself out of bed and stumbled into the shower. As he waited for the water to run warm, he glanced at himself in the mirror and made a face at what he saw there. The man staring back at him looked tired and drained. His eyes had dark purple circles under them, a strange contrast to the redness and puffiness of the skin above them. The stubble that normally was kept under control was log qug quite scraggly. There was a tenseness to the set of his mouth that warned of emotional upset. All in
all, he looked like death warmed over. They’re going to have fun trying to conceal all this tonight for the show.

Oh, well. That wasn’t his problem. His only problem at the moment was getting down to breakfast before Leonie came to fetch him. With that in mind, he stepped into the shower. Half
an hoaterater, Darren stumbled downstairs and met Leonie in the breakfast room. Leonie looked up at his arrival.

“Glad you could make it,” she said.

“Good morning to you, too,” Darren mumbled. He wandered over to the breakfast table and looked at the offerings. Bagels, donuts, dry cereal, and instant oatmeal. Making a face, he chose the least offensive of the selection, oatmeal, and quickly poured the hot water over it. Then he grabbed a glass of orange juice and sat down.

“Aren’t we happy this morning?” Leonie asked sarcastically, her tone deliberately bright. Darren glared at her.

“Lemme alone.” He turned his attention back to the oatmeal and sighed. He’d added too much
water. The oatmeal was a soupy mess. Darren stared sadly at it. Leonie followed his gaze and laughed at him.

“Ooh, is Darren’s oatmeal too soggy?” she teased.

“Shut up, Leo,” Darren said, but without heat. He shot her a small grin.

Leonie smiled back, happy to have made Darren smile, even if it was only a little smile. He seemed so sad this morning. After a few moments, Darren looked up curiously.

“Where’s the rest of the band?”

“They ate earlier. I made your breakfast a little later so you could get in some sleep.”

“Ah. Thanks, Leo. I needed the sleep.”

“I figured. Hey, are you almost done? We should probably get going so that we can meet the band for soundcheck.”

“Ye “Yeah, I’m done.” Darren pushed his half-eaten bowl of oatmeal away and stood up. “Let’s go.”

The ride to the venue was abnormally silent. Darren sat quietly in the car, staring out the window.
Leonie watched him surreptitiously. It was unusual to see the singer so reticent. She seriously hoped nothing was wrong.

The unusual silence continued as the band prepared. Darren went through the first couple of songs proficiently, if colorlessly. The moment the band began the songs from Savage Garden, however, Darren whirled around. His eyes were wide and dark with an emotion Leonie couldn’t identify.

“Oh, no,” Darren said. “No, no, no. I am not singing those songs tonight.”

“The Savage Garden songs?” Leonie asked, confused.

“Exactly. Nothing doing. I refuse to sing those ever again.”

“You can’t just refuse to sing them!”

“Oh yes, I can.”

“No, you can’t,” Leonie said, approaching Darren.

“Why can’t I? They’re half mine… and this is my concert. I don’t want to sing them, and
I won’t,” the singer said stubbornly, but there was a hint of underlying hysteria in his voice. Leonie and the rest of the band just gaped at him. Finally Leonie shook herself out of her surprised stupor.

“Darren, you’re under a contract for this tour. They may be your songs and such, but you still need to sing them. The fans expect to hear the Savage Garden songs. You can’t go out there and not sing them. You really don’t want to make that kind of career move.”

Darren dropped his eyes as he stood there, shifting his weight uncertainly. Leonie held her breath. If this didn’t work, she wasn’t sure what would short of ordering Darren. And ordering the stubborn singer was never a happy thing.

“Fine,” Darren finally agreed, but very ungraciously.

“Good,” Leonie sighed. “Now get out there and practice.”

“I’ll practice,” Darren said, “but I’m not singing those songs until I have to. Tonight.”

“Darren, what has gotten into you? You know you need to…”

Darren cut her off explosively. “No, I do not fucking need to practice those songs! I’ve sung enough that we know all the sound equipment is working right. And I don’t need to ‘brush up’ on them, either. I sang them almost every day on tour for two years. I bloody well wrote them! I couldn’t forget the words if I tried. So if the band needs this time, they can have it. Without me. I’m going back to totelotel.”

With that, Darren stormed off. Leonie stared after him, surprise and confusion warring for dominance on her face. Lee stepped up behind her.

“What was that about?” he asked quietly.

“I have no idea,” Leonie answered bemusedly. “No idea at all.”

Darren made it to the hotel in good time and headed up to his room, where he paced around irritably. He felt hot and lightheaded. How could he have forgotten about the Savage Garden set? He did not need this tonight. But Leonie was right. There was nothing he could do about it. He’d just have to gut through the concert. He could manage this. And he would not think of Daniel during the songs. He wouldn’t.

He heard a knock on the door. Leonie must have come after him. He altered the path of his pacing to slam his hand on the door handle, opening it just enough to let Leonie inside. He continued his pacing as Leonie walked in the room.

“Darren?” her voice held a mix of worry and vexation.

“Yeah?” he answered, still striding around.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, Leo.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, disbelief clear in her voice. “What actually happened between you and Daniel down there, huh? You said you guys resolved your issues, but before you went down there, you weren’t having any problems singing the Savage Garden set. So what’d he do this time?”

“He didn’t do anything, Leo. I just… I just had unrealistic expectations about us. I’m disappointed that it didn’t work out the way I wanted. But it’s not a big deal, and it’s not why I didn’t want to sing. I’m just still really tired from my trip.”

Darren submitted himself to Leonie’s scrutiny. Hopefully, there was enough truth in his last statement that Leonie would buy it. It was hard to fool her; she knew him too well. He didn’t want to tell her the truth now, though. If he were given sympathy, he’d break down. That would not be conducive to an even halfway decent concert. Leonie sighed and tilted her head.

“Darren, are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

“Leo, I’m just tired. I need to get some more sleep. And you know I’d tell you if something was wrong. You’re one of my best friends.”

Leonie watched him for a moment more, then nodded.

“Ok. Get some sleep, then. I’ll clear your schedule for this afternoon. But no complaining when I get you up for the concert, ok?”

Darren gaped at her. “I’m really free for the rest of the afternoon?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah, yeah. I can be nice occasionally, you know. Now get some rest. I want a happy, chipper Darren when I return.”

“Thank you, Leo,” Darren whispered, hugging her tightly. She hugged him back, then pushed him gently away.

“I’ll come get you. Sleep well, luv.”

She closed the door softly behind her. Darren wandered over to the bed and laid down. Sleep sounded like a very good idea right now…

* * * * * * *

The concert had started, and Darren went through the motions of singing, his mind somewhere else entirely. He knew he wasn’t giving one of his best performances, but at the moment he couldn’t care less. He was too busy trying to keep his fragile control on his emotions. After crying himself to sleep last night, Darren had slammed down the strongest walls he could find to protect himself
from feeling the rejection and pain he had suffered at Daniel’s ha Th The shock had never completely worn off, which helped him in this endeavor. Darren, however, could feel the barriers splintering further with every second that passed. He didn’t know why it was happening now. Maybe it was because he tried to show so much of himself at concerts. Regardless, it was taking every ounce of attention he could divert to keep his emotions under wrap.

Wouldn’t want to have a breakdown here, he thought, a trace of bitterness coloring it. It’ll get back to Daniel, and I don’t need him knowing just how completely he destroyed me. With an internal sigh of relief, Darren finished the last notes of the song he was singing (he couldn’t even remember what it was now) and eagerly awaited the opening chords of the next song. Every song down was one closer to going someplace to fall apart in peace. Unfortunately for Darren, the next chords revealed that it was time for the Savage Garden set. Darren firmly ignored the ache in his heart and pasted a smile on his face, calling something inane to the crowds that was met by screams. Just don’t think of Danny. You can do this as long as you don’t think of Danny, he counseled himself.

For a while, it almost seemed to work. Darren easily got through To the Moon and Back. He stumbled a bit in The Lover After Me, but nothing that was incredibly noticeable. It seemed his wayward feelings were going to let him be, and as he easily voiced the lyrics to Affirmation, the firm hold he had on his emotions slipped a little. That was a mistake, Darren soon realized. He began
the first verse to I Knew I Loved You.

“Maybe it’s intuition,” he sang as a wave of painful memories hit him.

He could see the smile on Daniel’s face when they bridged the gap between them. Somehow
Darren managed to push on, although his hand was trembling. More images and feelings flickered through his head; the laughter dancing in Daniel’s eyes as the singer related a story to him. The warmth and security he always felt when Daniel hugged him. The dark, intense expression in Daniel’s eyes just before they had kissed. The soft brush of his short blonde hair on the singer’s cheek in the morning. The disgust and horror on Daniel’s face as he realized what had happened. The cold, harsh expression he had worn when he told Darren that he wanted everything to be over between them. It was too much.

“I think I’ve found my- my,” Darren stumbled to a halt as a black wave of pain, anger, and despair flooded him. It took the band a moment to realize Darren had stopped. They slowly
petered out, staring at the singer in mingled curiosity and concern.

Darren was fighting an internal battle. He wanted to run off the stage now, to leave and find someplace to lick his wounds in peace. His pride, however, would not allow this. You can’t act like you’ve just lost the best thing in your life, the rational, pride-driven side of his mind told him.
But haven’t I? he asked back. Yes, it answered frankly. Yes, you have. But do you really want Daniel and the rest of the world to know
this? Just get this concert over with
and then you can go back and let whatever you’re feeling out in peace. Right now, though, you have a job to do. It was that recollection that finally made
up Darren’s mind.

He strolled over to his water bottle, giving himself a little more time to think of an excuse. Then, with a rueful smile, he turned back to the crowd.

“Can you believe it?” he asked in an amused, bantering tone. “I wrote that song. Sang it almost every night for a year, and I still managed to forget the words.” He sighed dramatically. “What they say about getting old must be true. Your memory is the first to go.”

The crowd laughed, a little uneasily, but still enough to break the tension that had settled over the venue. Darren signaled the band to continue with the next song. The rest of the concert passed without a hitch. The singer’s stubborn streak kicked in, forcing the memories at bay by sheer willpower. When the interminable concert finally drew to an end, Darren escaped the stage as quickly as possible. He headed for his dressing room, hoping to get there before Leonie caught up with him. His bad luck held, however, and Leo grabbed his arm just before he made it into the room.

“What was that out there?” she asked, her voice revealing a mixture of anger and worry.

Darren shrugged in response.

“I told you you should have sung those songs at the soundcheck. After all that talk about not forgetting your lyrics ever, too.”

“I didn’t forget!” Darren was stung into responding.

“Then what was that, huh?”

“Never mind, Leo,” Darren said, attempting to pull his arm out of Leonie’s firm grip. She merely tightened it and studied Darren’s face intently.

“This is about whatever happened between you and Daniel this week, isn’t it?”

Darren’s face smoothed into a glacially calm mask. “Leonie.” There was an unspoken threat in that tone, one that Leo automatically obeyed. “Drop it. Now. And let me go.”

He wrenched his arm away and whirled into the dressing room, firmly and promptly shutting the door and locking it in Leo’s face. He stood in the middle of the room, shaking slightly from the force of his feelings. His hands clenched and unclenched spasmodically. The sudden silence in the room was oppressive, pressing his thoughts in closer and closer to him. His frustration erupted and he kicked the couch violently. The loud “thunk” it made was incredibly satisfying. The singer paced around the room, fighting to keep the control he had imposed upon himself. He could feel it slipping, aided by his embarrassment over his too-obvious reaction to singing Savage Garden songs. His breathing quickened. Finally Darren snapped. He couldn’t take feeling the hurt, anger and shame any longer.

Darren stalked over to the vanity table and knocked everything on the floor. The crash helped assuage his feelings. He picked up the containers that had not broken or upended their contents and began hurling them at the door. The rhythmic thuds attracted the majority of the band, who stood staring at Darren’s door.

“Is he ok?” Angi asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Leonie said. A particularly violent thump punctuated her sentence. “I hope.”

Inside the room, Darren had run out of things to throw. He braced his hands on the table and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His anger grew as he watched himself. Look at you, the insidious little voice in his head murmured. Why would anyone, much less Daniel, want to be with you? You’re a failure. Your wife left you, your career is barely hanging on… what do you honestly think you have to offer? He couldn’t push the voice aside this time. Darren had always been
inclined to be critical of himself. Until Savage Garden, he hadn’t really been exceptional in anything. That’s why he needed the crowds, the touring, the outward signs of people’s approval. It silenced the insecurities that had never truly ceased to plague him. Daniel never understood that. He’d always been self-assured in his abilities and therefore didn’t need the crowds and the visible signs of
approbation.

As he thought this, Darren’s reflection blurred and shifted, reassembling itself to form Daniel’s familiar face. His expressive green eyes were cold and hard. “I wish you’d never come back here,” he mouthed at Darren, who let out an inarticulate cry of rage and pain and swung violently, desperately, at that image. The next moments were a blur of falling silver shards and searing
pain.

The band snapped to attention when they heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. Leonie tensed and ran to the door. She pounded on it, yelling.

“Darren! Darren, are you all right?”

There was no response. Leonie jiggled the door handle. She sighed in frustration when she realized it was locked. Angi stepped up behind her and slipped a bobby pin out of her hair. She flashed Leonie a brief smile.

“I’m actually quite good at this,” she said. “My older brother used to think it was funny to lock me out of my room and hide the emergency keys, so this was an important talent to have.”

The woman knelt and inserted the bobby pin into the lock. She twisted it a little, then jimmied it up and down until they heard the distinctive click of the lock opening.

“Viola!” Angi said, standing up and brushing the knees of her pants to remove the dust.

“Thanks,” Leonie answered distractedly, shoving the door open and stepping inside. She quickly took in the destruction around the room. Shattered plastic was scattered around the room, powders and other cosmetics littered the floor. What a mess, Leonie thought tiredly. But where’s Darren? Her eyes flicked over the room until they came to rest on a mess of shattered glass and ddleddled figure sitting in the center of it.

“Darren?” she asked, stepping closer to him. “Darren, are you ok?”

The singer straightened a little, looking up at Leonie with eyes bright from withheld tears.
He was holding his hand protectively to his chest. A red stain was spreading across the shirt,
originating from where the hand was resting. Leonie blinked. A red stain? Before she’d even truly registered what that meant she was moving to Darren’s side. With gentle fingers she pulled Darren’s hand away from his chest. He whimpered softly.

“Oh, Darren,” Leonie whispered, staring at his hand. . A long gash curved viciously along the edge of the fleshy part of his left hand to almost his pinky finger. It was deep. Definitely going to need stitches, Leonie thought distantly. There was so much blood. It was pouring down Darren’s forearm, dripping onto the floor and staining the carpet a bright red. She felt slightly sick, but forced herself to really evaluate the wound. Darren was going to need to get to a hospital, but it didn’t seem too deep. Hopefully he’d be ok.

“It hurts,” Darren whispered, his voice shaking slightly. He looked small and vulnerable. His face was so white. Leonie felt her heart contract. She let go of Darren’s hand and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“I know, Dare.” She stood up and grabbed a clean towel that hadn’t beenown own on the floor. Then she walked over to the singer and helped him up. “Come on. Put that on your hand and let’s go.”

“Go where?” Darren asked.

“You need your hand looked at. Which means we get to make a late-night trip to the emergency room.”

Darren whitened even more, if possible, but did not protest. Instead, he followed her out the door and out to their van. The ache in his hand did nothing to distract him from the ache in
his heart. Instead, the two pounded in counterpoint to each other, a complex melody of pain. With a tired sigh, Darren settled in for a very long night.
- 9
- 10
- 11
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Starting at the Beginning