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Teardrop In The Fire	By : MysticNight Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Incubus Views: 3776 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Incubus. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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“Turn it off.” Jose asked.

“You don't have to tell me twice.” she shut it off, noticing Brandon on the phone, now hanging it up.

“Claire can I talk to you for a minute?”

“If it’s that police officer again, I told him all I needed to an hour ago. He has his statements.”

“No, It’s about something else.” she glanced over at Mike who she seemingly knew, whatever ‘it’ was.

“Fine.” she stood up after him into the bedroom.

“I wanted to get your input about something.”

“Go ahead.” she watched him close the door.

“Our manager called, and thought it would be best if I attend Marissa’s funeral when
they bring her body back to New York.”

Claire said nothing, she only looked outside the window listening to him struggle with what to say next. “Claire, it’s just so the media will lay off a bit. Not that i really care, but If I don’t show, I'll end up looking like a complete prick and they’ll never let the guys live it down. It appears to be the decent thing to do, especially with all eyes on me in particular.”

“Go.” she replied softly.

“I don’t want you to give me the green light, if you’re really not okay with it. You’re opinion is what matters most to me right now.”

“Brandon, everything you said is true.” She walked over. “If you don’t go you’ll look like the world’s biggest asshole. And besides, I know you want to pay your respects.”

His eyes shifted to hers immediately, almost defensively.

“You may not be saying much, but I can always read you like a book.”

“I know."

“What are you thinking about?” she inquired.

“I’m not thinking anything, I’m afraid to let my mind go there.” He truthfully answered.

“Just go Brandon, maybe you’ll gain some sort of closure. Besides, Steve knows what he’s talking about.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, but you better not think of asking me to go with you. I don’t give a fuck how the media will perceive it.” she frankly told him.

“I would never put you in that position.”

“Thank you. Now is that it?”

“I guess so.”

He hoped they could stay in the room a while longer and talk, but clearly she wanted to get out of there, and away from him.

She quickly walked out and sat next to Chris resting her head on his shoulder.

*

“Everything cool?” Chris asked her.

“Like the other side of the pillow.” she lied.

*

Brandon glanced at the two while walking with Mike out on the balcony.

“So, what’d she say”

“She told me to go, not that I expected her to say otherwise.”

“Meaning, you don't think she meant it?”

“It’s not that, it’s the fact that she said in not so many words that she knew I kind of wanted to go for personal reasons.”

“You Do?” Mike turned his focus from the streets below over to Brandon.

“I don’t know. If I did, would that make me and Marissa a match made in hell?”

“Possibly. Or at least maybe in Claire’s eyes. You have to remember, that chick tried to kill Claire and if she had her way it would have been Claire's body being carried out in that body bag…”

“Don’t you think that I was the first person to have had that thought?” Brandon held his head. “I can honestly say for the most part that I hate Marissa for what she tried to do, because if she had pulled that trigger on Claire..She would have been the next one carried out in a fucking body bag. But,”

“But?”

“But, there were some things her and I shared, fun times if you will, that made me
look toward her as a friend." He took a deep breath before expressing "Michael…she was so desperate for me to love her, that she killed herself. The least thing I can do is show up for the fucking service.”

“I understand where your coming from.”

“But does Claire.”

“Well you can’t really blame her Bran, this all happened not even a full 24 hours ago.”

He nodded in agreement.

****

Claire handn't come out of the room at all for the next 2 days. She rejected meals as a means to keep everyone out and Chris would hear her throwing up every now and then. When asking her to let him in to check on her, she kept the bedroom door locked without so much as a word to let him know she was alright.

There was no way to reach out to her.

Brandon felt somehow that he had failed her, but not more so than her brother. As someone that was supposed to be taking care of her and sheltering her from the evils of the world he had let someone come in and shatter her mind.

It was now the day they were all to depart for their flight home.

Claire decided to go home with Chris to calm their parents’ nerves, and Brandon would also return just to give his mother a visual that he was alright before getting on the next flight to New York for Marissa’s funeral.

A gentle knock was heard at the door, and she opened it.

Chris stood there surprised she had actually let him in and commented on how pale she looked.

Claire didn’t respond.

“Claire, I let you stay inside that room for those two days just to give you a break from the world. But it ends today, literally. Our flight leaves in 3 hours, and Brandon helped pack your things and brought them down. I Don’t want to get all big brotherly on you, but right now you are going to take a shower and put yourself together, and after that? you're going to eat something, even if I have to force feed you.”

“Okay” she turned around and walked into the bathroom, soon after the water was heard letting him know she was following his instructions.

“If only it was always that easy” he sighed.

When she finished getting dressed, Claire walked into the kitchen to see everybody already there.

“Nice of you to rise from the grave.” Jose jokingly greeted.

Claire as well as the others looked over at him as though he had just farted at her mother’s funeral.

He cleared his throat muttering “Maybe not the best phrase to throw out there.”

“Here. Eat. You've been throwing up so much I'm surprised you can even walk.”
Chris placed a tray in front of her unveiling everything from croissants, to scrambled eggs, to French toast.

“Kill me with carbs why wont you…”

"Are you feeling okay, though? You sounded really sick."

"I'm fine, just an upset stomache I guess."

From the corner of her eye she noticed the front door’s handle turning slowly and immediately went into a frenzy as no one else seemed to notice.

“The front door! Fucking lock it!” she jumped off the stool, scrambling for knife on the nearby counter.

They all stood by and watched in amazement.

As the door opened, she lunged for whoever was coming through it only to be grabbed from the shirt and waist by Mike who was nearest to her.

“Okay Okay, calm down.”

The bellboy paused at doorway, almost embarrassed with the eyes of a band he was familiar with presently focused on him.

“Did I do something?” He noticed Claire not even 5 feet away with a butter knife now lowered at her side, discomfited as well.

“No, everything’s fine. If you could just help us with the rest of the luggage that would be great dude.” Ben tried to break to awkwardness looming around the room.

“Sure” she young man smiled, grabbing a few bags along with Ben who offered to help. Pulling his cap further down on the way out Ben smiled “Not that anyone will recognize me, but what the hell.”

As soon as the door closed, Mike turned to her “What the hell was that about? And what were you planning to accomplish with a butter knife?” He almost laughed, and it was then that Claire realized she had indeed picked up a butter knife in defense.

“Nothing” she wrenched herself free of his hand that was still clung to the back of her shirt.

Brandon said nothing, he merely watched her sit around island taking a bite of toast, avoiding the concerned eyes that were set upon her.

When Ben arrived back to the room, he announced everyone’s things were packed up, and that they would take another route to the vans waiting out back.

Not much was said on their way down to the back exit, besides a few comments on how long over due their departure from the hell ridden place had been.

Now standing before two vans, Claire noticed from the corner of her eyes two girls, in their late teens watching them casually as if carrying on with their own affairs. The guys hadn't even noticed them, and she too probably wouldn't have acknowledged them if she hadn’t already spotted one of the girl's camera phone opened at her side.

Cleared her throat, Claire opted to speak when catching everyone’s attention.

“I think it would be best if me and Brandon went in separate cars.”

He shifted his gaze to her, and she went on to explain

“We both don’t need anymore negative press. Those two girls over there are bound to sell whatever picture’s they’ve already taken to some local paper which will eventually end up on some blog revealing what their ‘sources’ have exclusively told them, and I’m just not in for it today.” She was truly drained.

“I agree.”

Claire expected Brandon to say the opposite and argue her against the idea when she presented it, but she accepted his consenting response and hopped into one of the vans first. “We’ll meet up there.”

Before the door closed, Chris stopped it with his hand.

“Move over.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Will you stop telling me what I do, and do not have to do? Move over before I have to sit on you, and you know I will.”

20 minutes later, Brandon, Jose, Mike, and Ben stood off to one side near the entrance of the airport anxiously wondering where Chris and Claire were.

The two were ahead of them, then turned a corner leaving the driver to question what short cut they were taking if any were even in that direction.

“It’s been 15 minutes, where the hell are they?” Mike asked. “Hold on.” he pulled out his phone to call Chris.

“Wait.” Brandon told him, now spotting the van pulling up.

“Well it’s about time…” he snapped it shut.

“Sorry.” Chris explained stepping out of the vehicle “She was throwing up again.”

“In the car?” Jose asked.

“No, we stopped at a nearby gas station and I ended up grabbing her some ginger ale and crackers. Hopefully it’ll settle whatever’s going on with her until we get home.”

“This has been what? The 2nd time today? Maybe she should see a doctor.” Mike suggested in reference to earlier that morning just before she finally let Chris in the room, unaware that they were all there.

“You willing to stay another day here?” Chris sarcastically asked as Claire stepped out the vehicle trying to gain some balance.

“Point taken." Mike nodded. "Come on then cupcake. The sooner we get on that plane, the sooner we’ll be home and you can puke your little heart out.” he brushed his fist against her jaw lightly in a mock punch, and she merely grunted in accord.

After going through customs, they boarded first class.

Claire didn’t care about the seating arrangements, but felt it best not to sit next to Brandon.

Just as she was about to take a seat next to her brother, she was pulled backward and forced into a seat an aisle away.

She fussed to fight back, but realized she was already sitting down.

Turning her head she scowled at Brandon.

“What?” she angrily asked.

He lowered his tone and moved his face closer, so that only she could hear when he scathingly warned her

“If you do this again. I can assure you that I will not be as understanding as the last time. If we’re done, we are done.”

She stared at the seriousness yet civility on his face, absorbing his words then glanced at the seat in front of her.

She moved her face closer to it, distracted; making Brandon wonder if she had even cared about he just said.

Claire then pulled a magazine from the slot attached to the back of the seat she had been eyeing, presenting an US weekly magazine.

She flipped through a few pages, and he knew what was coming.

Clearing her throat gently, she read aloud for only his ears.

“Top story!” she read the headline.
Claire was injecting good cheer into her voice, but Brandon knew she was angry.

------

In recent news, incubus front man Brandon Boyd was seen outside the Las Vegas Hard Rock Hotel & Casino, NV, in a row with the paparazzi after the death of his supermodel girlfriend who was fairly known in the industry as Marissa T.

Marissa committed suicide only hours earlier. She was 28.

Paramedics were called to the Hard Rock at about 4am Thursday morning.
When asked if Marissa was alive when the emergency responders arrived, a local fire department captain answered:

'No, she suffered a self inflicted gun shot wound to her head.'

Eyewitnesses at the Hotel speculate there was an argument between the model and the Incubus turntablist Chris Kilmore’s younger sister.

'We were going to make a complaint with all the yelling going on next door to us then all of a sudden we heard a loud ‘bang’.' One guest reports.

An unidentified Hard Rock employee tells US exclusively it appeared Boyd, 31, knew something was up when he ran down to the main desk only minutes before the tragedy:

'He ran up to me asking for a copy of Ms. Kilmore’s room key. I didn’t ask any questions, but it was clear he was concerned. After I gave it to him, he ran off for the stairs instead of the elevator.'

The 26, year old who has been identified as Claire Kilmore and from previous interviews as Brandon’s close friend has caused some speculation as to what the relationship status has really been between the two.

A guest at the Hotel tells our sources:

'The night before it happened, both women met up with the band for dinner. Brandon took Marissa out on the balcony and they seemed to be having a pretty serious talk but when they came in everything looked fine, until Brandon left her at the table and got on the dance floor with the other woman. Marissa finally walked over after a few minutes with telling him something, then she left Brandon who remained dancing with the other lady.'

Not only that, but many onlookers who witnessed the small altercation this morning reveal to US that the situation arose when a photographer called the young woman a 'Murderer'.

'He just lost it after that. He marched over, asking the guy to say it again and when he did everyone thought Brandon was going to kill him.'

The altercation was separated by the band’s bodyguards.

Many fans on the bands message board and other sources have brought up the question of whether the ‘Drive’ singer and Ms. Kilmore’s relationship were what drove the 2006 sports illustrated model over the edge and to her untimely demise.
Meanwhile, Boyd already appears to be celebrating his new gamesmanship-

----------

“-Enough.”

“No, Brandon why don’t I finish, because maybe this will show you why I’m trying to stay away from you right now.”

She shook her head bitterly at the picture they put of Marissa smiling at a photo shoot looking just heavenly, while the picture of Brandon and herself leaving the hotel that day looked anything but. A small blurb Accompanied the picture reading:

Brandon Boyd and Claire kilmore exiting the Hard Rock hotel in Las Vegas, NV. Hours after his girlfriend's suicide.

Claire looked over at him staring at the magazine in her lap and for an instant she noticed how sad he truly was. It was in his eyes, Claire thought.

His eyes said everything.

Placing her hand on his own, she spoke softly,

“This person their describing in here, it isn’t you. And for those who don’t know you… they don’t need to be persuaded by this trash.”

They buckled their seatbelts after the pilot interrupted with an announcement on their departure, and Brandon commented

“I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.-”

“Yes you do.” she said knowingly. “We all care to some degree what others have to say about us, the point of the matter is…” she stopped, moving her hand from Brandon’s and onto her stomach.

“What?” He asked,

She raised a hand to stop his talking, and immediately scrambled for an air sickness bag, heaving whatever contents were left in her stomach from her last stop at the gas station.

Startled, Brandon watched her hands shake as she clasped onto the bag for dear life.

She went from being perfectly fine to ghastly ill in a matter of seconds.

“Christ,” he sighed, rubbing her back “It’s okay, I’m right here.”
He held her hair out of her face in a faux ponytail, while Chris waited for the seatbelt sign to disappear.

Finally when she stopped, a flight attendant appeared at her side.

“Is she alright?” the middle aged woman who’s tag read Laura, asked.

“Not really.” Brandon flatly answered, continuing to rub Claire’s back.

Her vomiting had stopped for the time being, but she refused to trust her stomach as she remained crouched over the bag for the instant she would have expel everything from her abdomen once again.

After a minute, Brandon allowed her to sit up sealing the bag.

Taking it away from her, Laura offered her a napkin.

“Do you usually get flight sickness?”

“No” she answered, moving her head to Brandon’s shoulder who receptively brushed a few strands of hair out of her face.

“May I?” the woman then asked, as Claire watched her reach over to feel her temperature.

“Not a fever.”

Claire did not answer.

“Can you look at me for a moment?” Laura kindly asked.

Not in the best of moods, Claire pushed her frustration aside and did as told unaware of where Laura was going with this.

A small smile formed at her Laura’s lips. “How long has this been happening?”

“Few days. Why?”

“Are you late?”

“Late on what?” Claire sighed impatiently, hoping the woman would stop with the questions.

Brandon on the other hand, grew nervous at Laura’s suggestive questions, hoping she was not about to go where he thought she just might.

Claire looked up at Laura who gave her a knowing look instead of having to spell it out.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of a personal question?”

“Honey, you’re cheeks and forehead are flushed. I may be wrong, but when I was pregnant-”

“Pregnant!?” Claire’s head flew up, knocking Brandon in the jaw causing him to almost bit his tongue.

“Uh...Uh...” Brandon sat there stuttering, unable to respond to what Laura had just put out there.

“Brandon shut up. Listen lady,” She began, “Even though you mean well, I know my body and I know whether or not I feel pregnant. And right now, I don’t. Hand me my bag please?”

Laura did as she requested, while Brandon looked around disoriented as if he were looking into the past, present and future from his and Claire’s past actions.

Claire pulled out her daybook, flipping to the calender.

“You're suppose to get your period around every 28 days, correct? well my last cycle was the 13th of last month” she flipped to the next month and could clearly hear Brandon groan from feeling qualmish at the details of her menstrual cycle. She ignored him looking back up at Laura who stood above her intently "I'm suppose to get it this month on the 10th…and today's date is the-”

"-It's the 21st." Laura told her.

At that moment it donned on her,

“I’m 10 days late.” Claire's voice was barely above a whisper at the last four words.

Holding his head in disarray and unable to find a suiting reaction, Brandon could only speak for himself when asking “I don’t suppose you’d have another barf bag in that little tray of yours?”

TBC:)
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