11
It was rather surprising to see the change in Anette since she’d told Tarja. For the past two days, she had seemed almost lighthearted. Well, as lighthearted as someone who had experienced what she had could be. Emppu knew that Anette had a trusting and open personality, but he was worried for her now, worried about what Tarja may do. Tuomas, though, had seemed to rise a fraction out of his pit of depression as well, ever since he’d spoken to Tarja. What was it about Tarja that had people feeling better lately? Emppu himself had not yet spoken to her, despite how often he saw her in the hotel with Anette. He didn’t know what he would say to her. He figured he probably should talk to her now, though, if only to assuage his fears of her betraying Anette.
So, he did. Using the number she’d written for Tuomas in that note a couple weeks ago, the one on the day of Anette’s threat letter, he called her up, trying to think of something that he would say to her when she picked up.
“Hello?”
That voice, oh God, that voice. Three years without hearing it directed at him, but hearing it now brought back all the good memories.
“T-Tarja? It’s Emppu.”
“Oh, Emppu! Hey! How have you been?”
Emppu smiled into the phone. She sounded as she had in the better days of her time in Nightwish. It really was a shame things couldn’t have stayed that way, but on the bright side, he’d met and found an awesome friend in Anette. If Tarja had let those demons go, perhaps Emppu would even have two great friends, rather than one friend and one ex-friend.
“Things have been better, I guess,” he replied. “The whole thing with Anette is really taking its toll on all of us.”
“Oh, I bet it has. I really hope all of that gets resolved soon.”
“Mhmm. Look, I was wondering if you might like to get together, have a coffee, reminisce over better times?”
“I don’t know if it would be wise to reminisce. I have a feeling that remembering the good times will quickly remind us of the bad.” She laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. Emppu winced on his side of the phone.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m really sorry about that, you know. The way it was dealt with. I mean, I know I wasn’t the only –”
“Shush, Emppu. It’s fine. We’re all happy now, aren’t we? Current situation aside, I mean. So maybe we should just forget that time, okay?”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“But I’d definitely love to have coffee with you! I’m busy for the rest of this week, but next Wednesday I’ll be free. How does that work?”
“Uh…one sec.” Emppu took his cell phone from his ear and quickly navigated to the calendar. He scrolled from the current date to the one eight days later, checking to see if he had anything programmed in. Finding the slot blank, he brought the phone back to his ear.
“That works great, Tarja! Can’t wait.”
“Me neither. Okay, I gotta let you go. See you later!”
Before he even had a chance to say good-bye, she’d hung up. He sighed and flipped the phone closed. Well, next Wednesday would certainly be interesting.
That evening, Emppu and Anette sat on the loveseat in front of the TV, trying frantically to avoid being killed in the game they were playing, as well as attempting to kill each other. Marco, with a bottle of vodka in one hand, sat in a chair on Emppu’s side, cheering him on, and Jukka sat on the bed behind Anette, giving her tips and pointers. Tuomas was laying down in the other bed reading.
“Come on, Emppu! That girl just kicked your ass!” Marco shouted when Anette killed Emppu’s character for the fifth time. Her and Jukka exchanged a high five, both grinning broadly. Emppu shrugged, just happy to see Anette having fun again.
“If you’re so great, you beat her then!”
“I will!”
The two switched places. With a glance at Anette before fully concentrating on the game, Marco said, “Prepare to lose.”
“Over your dead body,” she replied, sticking her tongue out at him and also turning to the game. There was a knocking at the door.
“Someone, get that, please,” Anette ordered without so much as looking up from the screen, where her character was lining Marco’s up in the sniper rifle’s sight. The knocking persisted.
“ANSWER THE GODDAMN DOOR!” Marco shouted, but not meanly, rather drunkenly, in fact. Jukka sighed and went to open the door. Emppu turned his attention to the person now entering the room.
“Okay, guys. Two weeks off, four canceled shows. I don’t give a shit what you say, you’re going to be performing next Thursday at the Ice-Hall. Needless to say, the fans are not pleased.”
“You know, I bet they’re as pissed off as the American fans were when the US tour was canceled during Once,” Jukka stated.
“Can we please not bring up that bullshit, Jukka?” Ewo said, rolling his eyes and sighing.
“Whatever.”
A silence descended on the room, every band member looking at Anette, who was frowning at the floor. Finally, Tuomas quietly said, “Would you be okay to, Anette?” Emppu noticed the look of confusion on Ewo’s face, but no one cared to enlighten him; they were all too focused on Anette.
“Well?”
She nodded, still looking at the floor. Emppu could see her back rise as she inhaled deeply and rose her head.
“Yes,” she said with determination, but the look of someone who had accepted a dreadful and inevitable fate.
“Are you sure?” Marco asked. Anette laughed a little, quickly and falsely.
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
“No, you don’t,” said Ewo, who turned and left the room. Putting her controller down, Anette also left, her shoulders slumped slightly.
“Shit,” Emppu muttered, and dashed after her.
The door to her room was swinging ponderously closed on its hydraulic hinges, and Emppu managed to stop it before it had closed all the way. Pushing it open with one hand, he quietly stepped inside. Turning the corner of the very slight hallway that led to the main part of the room, he didn’t find Anette in tears, or even looking upset for that matter, as he had expected to. She was sitting on the bed, frowning into her hands, ankles crossed. She didn’t seem distressed, just thoughtful.
“What’s up?” Emppu asked in a hushed tone. She looked up and half-smiled at him.
“Nothing, really.”
Emppu knew that wasn’t true and would have liked to drill a figurative hole into her head to know what she was thinking, but he wouldn’t pry.
“Alright. How do you feel about having a gig next week?”
Anette shrugged her slight shoulders and a look of resignation crossed her face.
“Well, it was bound to happen eventually, I guess,” she replied. There was something in her voice, the way she said that, that Emppu didn’t like. She was giving up. This woman, who had been stubborn enough to continue sending audition tapes when she had first been refused, who had endured profound amounts of disrespect on-stage, online, in person, who had risen above any of the guys’ expectations, was giving up. The fire in her seemed to have gone out completely. This…lack of emotion she was showing right now was worse than any amount of tears and angry words. This was almost more than Emppu could endure. He bit his lip to keep himself from uttering these thoughts, for fear that they would have no effect whatsoever rather than that they would anger his friend. Where was the girl who had been playing video games just a few minutes earlier? That had almost been the old Anette again. How could she just change so quickly?
Nothing very eventful happened for the rest of the week. Anette grew increasingly distant as the gig approached, barely participating in conversations, barely laughing, barely anything. Had she been anyone else, she would have disappeared into the back of everyone’s mind. However, she only stood out more because of it to Emppu, because he knew she was never like this. She was always very open with her emotions, laughing easily, crying easily. That was why her silence bothered Emppu so much. He tried not to think about it, for the rest of the week, he didn’t say anything to the other band members, though sometimes he could tell that they had noticed too, that it bothered them too. He tried to convince himself that this was better than before, that at least she wasn’t crying anymore, but he never believed it. He tried to reach out for her, to bring her back into who she used to be, but she wasn’t reaching back, and so he drew away because he couldn’t handle it anymore. Marco had tried something similar, to make her be the emotive person she once was, but he failed too, and, not knowing what else to do, the band let her be. They stopped trying.
Emppu’s entire weekend was spent without saying a single phrase to Anette. He would cast her worried glances over the breakfast, lunch, supper table, he’d stand outside her door with his fist raised, ready to knock, but he never would. He would always just sigh and clump back into his room. If she noticed his worry, she never showed it. She never showed anything anymore. Emppu was losing his mind, unsure of what to do or how to act around Anette. Thankfully, due to the large amounts of alcohol available in Helsinki, he didn’t think about it too much Friday, Saturday or Sunday night. Or maybe he did. He couldn’t really remember. Waking up bleary-eyed with a pounding skull on Monday, he did know that it probably served him right and hoped he hadn’t made a fool of himself. Marco was snoring on the loveseat, his legs sticking off the side, and Tuomas was passed out on the other bed. Jukka lay on the air mattress on the floor. Emppu rolled off the bed, groaning quietly with the effort. He needed coffee, and he needed it now. Standing, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as if that could make his headache go away, but of course it didn’t. He stumbled into the bathroom and took a quick look at his reflection; long blonde hair a complete mess, clothes wrinkled from sleeping in them, bags under his eyes. He sighed and quickly ran his fingers through his hair to make it semi-presentable before shuffling out the hotel room’s door.
The lady at the counter of the café must have noticed his delicate state because she spoke very softly to him. The fluorescent lighting caused Emppu to squint his eyes so that the brightness wouldn’t hurt his head even more. As he waited for his take-away coffee to be prepared, he took a glance at the magazine rack. Same old, same o–wait a minute. He picked up the tabloid with shaking hands, not sure if he should believe what he was reading. Maybe this was some side-effect of the hangover. A part of his brain told him that that was a stupid theory, but he really wished that it were true, because if the tabloids knew, if the fans knew, if the world knew, then everything would get very, very ugly. The woman behind the counter returned with the coffee and Emppu saw her glance at what he held in his hand. She didn’t look at his face, so she couldn’t see the look of panic and distress there.
“It’s really a shame, isn’t it? I hope she’s okay,” the woman said, shaking her head sadly, finally looking up and seeing Emppu’s facial expression. Her eyebrows rose in confusion at his reaction and he realized that she had probably never listened to Nightwish before, and didn’t know that he was one of the band members. He brought his eyes back down to the tabloid in his hand, set the paper down on the counter and left without another word. Who could possibly have told the magazine about Anette’s rape? None of the members of the band would, since they all knew just how horribly the media would use this information, but Anette hadn’t told anyone else, had she? Emppu paused in his stride, the answer to who had told the tabloid dawning on him. Anette had told someone else, and only one other person. Tarja.
