Gravity

Chapter Twelve

Chris splashed his face with cool water and looked at himself in the mirror. There were bags under his eyes and his head still felt dizzy. Jetlag was something he could still not get used to. They were currently promoting A Rush of Blood to the Head in America and their schedule was quite hectic. He and Jonny had just finished doing an interview for MTV and they were due to sit for another one in fifteen minutes. He just wanted all of them to be over and done with. Chris hated interviews, all the band did really. It wasn’t that they did not like the people who cared about their music to know a bit more about them, he was consciously aware of how important promotion was for the life of the band, but he dreaded all the gossip and nonsense that those interviews usually brought along, especially in the recent months. They were hungry to know everything they could about his private life when he’d much rather talk about more pressing issues like the Make Trade Fair campaign the band was supporting. He wanted nothing more than to just play music with his mates. He took a deep breath and tried to get mentally ready to sit through another round of the same boring questions. He glanced at the mirror once more. ´Just give me a guitar and let me play,’ he thought.

“I thought Chris was going to be a total asshole, turned out to be quite a friendly dude,” a voice coming from the corridor said.

“Yeah, he’s cool.”

He heard footsteps and the two voices approaching and, embarrassed to be caught listening to them talking about him, he childishly ran into one of the stalls and locked himself there. He recognised the voices as the TV presenter and the camera man who had just interviewed them.

“That other guy, though,” the presenter continued.

“The guitarist? What’s his name? Sean? Jon? Jim?”

Chris’ breath caught in his throat.

“Yeah, I don’t know. Totally useless. Didn’t say a word during the whole interview.”

Rage surged through the singer in an instant. An innate feeling possessed him. Who the hell did they think they were to talk about Jonny like that?

“Why did he bother coming?”

“I don’t know man. Total bland guy, might as well have put a plant to fill the space,” the presenter said and the two men cracked up.

Meanwhile, Chris was furious. He just wanted to punch them in the face. How dare they? Who were they to judge?  Confined in the small wooden cubicle, he tried to calm himself down. He knew he would get into serious trouble if he went ahead and let his protective instinct take over, but he could not get over it. Bastards. They did not even know Jonny. He had been nothing but polite to them. Why did they even care? He did wish his friend was a bit more relaxed, a bit more confident, but Jonny was still shy, it was not his fault, he was an amazing guitarist and human being, he could talk for both of them anyways. Talking or not, Chris still needed Jonny by his side.

Having finished their business, the men left and Chris waited a few cautious seconds before getting out of the stall and making his way back into the room they were using for the interviews. He prayed not to cross paths with any of the two cunts who had made fun of Jonny or he did not if he would be able to contain himself. Aware that he needed to calm down, he regulated his breathing. It was not easy though. Those bastards had badmouthed his friend. He would have got equally angry if they had been talking like that about one of the other guys, but at the moment he was distinctly conscious, that when it came to Jonny it definitely felt as if they were attacking a part of him.

By the time they released A Rush of Blood to the Head, Chris and Jonny’s friendship had become even stronger. Chris was more than happy to acknowledge the guys as his brothers, but Jonny was more than that, Jonny was his other half, musically speaking and friendship wise. They were inseparable. He would push Jonny forward, towards the spotlight because he wanted everyone else to see how truly wonderful and talented his quiet friend was. Besides, Chris knew that despite justly deserving it, Jonny would not put himself there. Chris, on his part needed Jonny to back him up, his mere presence would give him confidence, would calm him down, Jonny was his rock. The guitarist would often remain silent during interviews, speaking only if addressed directly, he was more than happy to just sit there, gazing at Chris and agreeing to what he said. Chris did not care. He needed Jonny to be there.