Fix You ~Completed~

Act Eighteen Point Five

~Eddie~

"Can you feel the love tonight? The peace the evening brings!" Gale launched into son the minute I sat back down at our table, his arms in the air as he swayed to the music only the ginger weirdo heard. If Clem didn't look ready to burst into mortified flames, I would have flipped Gale off. Instead, I gave all my attention to our tiny Clemmy, asking if he liked the song.

"Loved it," he clarified with a tiny smile that had my own face warming up. "I didn't know you had such a great voice. It's perfect for country."

"Thanks," I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. Music is a soft spot in my family. Mom and Dad had my brother and I trained pretty well, but I wasn't like Georgie who lived and breathed Wagner. It could be called a hobby. Even that felt like too much, though. "That's one of my favorite songs. Gale teases me because it's so sappy."

The ginger demon sent me daggers. A sneaking suspicion that I'd be in the doghouse for the next week or so came. It wasn't as though I was actually trying to hide anything from Gale; I found out I was bi and just couldn't find the right time to bring it up. No betrayal, just nerves! (That excuse could never be good enough for Gale Asher.)

My ginger friend sighed dramatically, "I tease you because you're sappy, Han. No joke, he makes Nicholas Sparks seem like some realist writer encouraging people to stick it to the man!"

Clem didn't look like he was completely following, but I didn't bother filling him in on what it was he missed with Gale's tiny spiel. "Did you guys decide what you're gonna do?" I asked, nudging my smaller friend. Our eyes locked for a second before Clem laughed and told me that they hadn't talked about it yet. "Too caught up discussing how awesome Keith Urban is?"

"Who?"

It was hard not to grin at the adorable cat-like curiosity on Clem's face. "He's the original singer of the song I just did," I explained, my hand twitching to reach over and push away some of the messy hair that was falling in front of the itty bitty boy's face. If I were more like Gale, if I cared less, I could easily do it. But I didn't possess his lack of caring. "You guys might wanna pick pretty soon though. I glanced at Alto's roster. You'll be up, right after Joakim and Zane."

Gale and I's angel friend broke into soft laughter and nodded, agreeing with me. "What sounds good to you, Gale?" he asked, folding his hands in his lap. I wished he'd keep them on the table. It would be less nerve-wracking for some reason and I couldn't figure out why.

Immediately, Gale started blasting off totally ridiculous ideas.

"What's New Pussycat?"

"No."

"The Circle Of Life!"

"Gale, why?"

"Something by Avril Lavigne so Lem can show off his emo side."

Clemmy shook his head playfully, watching the two boys on stage singing some tune I vaguely recognized. It was a Radiohead song, the one about loving a person who was so unbelievably special while you yourself just weren't. I turned and felt my entire body warm at the sight of Clem swaying to the music, lost in it. He wasn't thinking about Kyla or how he felt about that asshole. For once, he looked so carefree, so relaxed.

I wanted this Clem all the time. I wanted happy, music-obsessed Clem twenty-four-seven. I wanted the Clem who laughed at me for singing show-tunes in the laundry matt, the Clem who went on and on about Coldplay's song "Charlie Brown," the Clem who admitted he often hid his face during horror movies (and added with a giggle how weird that was considering how terrifying his real life was). That was the Clem the world deserved, not the one that cried in my car because he was marked and bruised. Not the one that let himself be shredded by that douche-canoe.

This Clem was my favorite Clem. This was the Clem Gale and I would make sure never got burnt out.