Chapter Text
Ivy loved his birthdays. He loved his huge noisy family gatherings in the mornings and parties with friends in the evenings, with rivers of beer and laughter, where he was the centre of attention, where he was loved and kept. But this year his birthday coincided with the dates of their Australian tour. They were very far from home… Not that it was the first ever birthday spent on tour in his life, but it felt different this time.
When he woke up with the realization that today is HIS day, suddenly he felt empty and lonely. He woke up in a nice hotel room all alone. Each of his bandmates had his own room in this city. The room was nice and spacious with huge windows and a great view of Adelaide, where they all just came the day earlier before their ritual.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to drive away the remnants of sleep. His hand instinctively crawled under his pillow, as he tried to take a more comfortable position in his huge bed with snow white sheets. He was lying like that for a while, thinking about this day. Today they had a lot of work. First, he needed to go down to a hotel restaurant for the breakfast, where he would meet his bandmates, and together with some crew guys they had to attend the venue and start the soundcheck before today's ritual, then probably they had to organize the dinner for the whole band, then come back to the venue, apply makeup and put on their stage clothes and masks, play the gig and then… ? What’s then?
He thought about a little cozy afterparty for him, made by his beloved bandmates and closest guys from the crew, but will they still have any energy for this after the exhausting ritual? He doubted that. His bandmates never left him without attention on his day, no matter what. But one unpleasant thought creeped into his mind: what if everyone forgot about his birthday? No way! It cannot be, he knew how others loved him. On the other hand, they were all too busy with the tour in another part of the world. What a childish thought!
“Come on, you are a grown ass man, you can handle that”, he thought to himself, but felt even more sad. He started to feel homesick as well. At this same moment, his phone buzzed on the bedside table: someone was calling. He reached for the phone and saw his mother’s photo on the screen. He mechanically put a smile on his face, made more mess on his head with one hand, acting as if he just woke up, picked a call and switched the camera on.
"Hi, mom!" He said feigning to be sleepy.
"My Boy!" His mom screamed at the phone, probably thinking that he couldn't hear her. "Happy birthday, my boy! Oh, my God! You were asleep?!"
He just rolled up his eyes and sent her a few air kisses, waving his hand at her image on the screen. He saw his father behind her back, who was calm and just smiling kindly, squeezing his mom’s shoulders.
"Thanks, mom, I love you! It’s okay, it's okay! I am going to breakfast soon. And then we have a show to play." He tried to speak loudly, but she was screaming so loud, that probably her ears were ringing.
"Are you okay, my love? How is the tour? I hope you eat well?!" These and plenty more questions were asked by his mother. The questions were followed by a few kind congratulations from his dad and his mom’s whining and cooing. They missed him so much and were waiting for him at home.
After this typical talk with his parents and exchanging more air kisses, he ended a call and went to his socials, which were flooded by messages from his former colleagues and bandmates. Even his ex texted him with congrats, which made Ivy grin. He looked at the text hesitantly and then texted back a dry “thank you”. Nothing from Vessel, II and III. Not a single message. He rubbed his chin, thinking that it was strange. Maybe it was early, and they were all asleep?
Trying to drive these intrusive thoughts away, he went to the shower, changed into his comfortable sweatpants and large oversized hoodie and went down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. He decided to take coffee first and chose a big table for four people. He was all alone. None of his bandmates were there, so he was quite sure that they were sleeping. But sipping his coffee and scrolling phone, answering greeting messages, he finally saw all three of his mates and lovers, coming to the hotel restaurant together.
They all looked sleepy, especially Vessel and III, with their hair all messed up and with grumpy faces. II obviously took a shower before going out, so he looked much neater and demure. They casually greeted IVy and sat around the table, looking around. IVy took a closer look at III and his dyed messy hair – this all was kind of usual for him, but he looked like he just swallowed a frog.
He furrowed his brows looking at III with suspicion, but said nothing, put his phone on the table with the screen down, reached for the menu with six different variants of breakfasts and started to choose. All others except III did the same. After they all ordered their breakfasts, and III took the same as Vessel not even looking at the menu, with what he surprised everyone around the table, – they continued their quiet chit-chat about everything and nothing.
Ivy’s mood started to escapade dramatically. He almost didn't say anything during the breakfast, while others were calmly talking about their plans for the day, about the upcoming ritual, about some local stuff in Adelaide. About the next rituals in Melbourne and Brisbane…
Ivy's throat clenched with frustration and disbelief, and he tried to swallow the lump appearing inside, not letting him breathe evenly.
“They forgot” ... His closest people, except his parents, forgot about his birthday. Considering their weird relationships shared between all four members, it hurt even more. That couldn't be. He thought they were already like a family. And despite joining them the last, he finally felt that he reached his destination and found his “home” in this band with them all.
Ivy was looking for at least one slightest hint, some little gesture of affection from any of them, but three men beside him were calmly eating their breakfasts and talking. Not that he was waiting for them to give him kisses and hold his hands. They never did that in public, except like during the ritual, where it was more like a part of the show. But he was expecting at least something to show him that nothing was over.
He silently looked at all their faces, Vessel, II, III, and again Vessel, II, III, and again and again. They were ignorant. All of them. III was clearing his throat too often, but he usually coughed and sneezed, and squeezed his nose, so he was probably just not feeling well. They were talking between each other, as if Ivy didn't even exist. He tried to regain his composure, but it was really hard to do this, because tears gathered in his eyes, and he was desperately fighting with himself. They won't see his tears!
Not today. He was not a little boy, whose friends didn't come over to his birthday party. And instead of tears, he decided to choose another path. Anger. Anger always worked the best for him. He clenched his jaws so hard, that they even heard the sound of his teeth grinding. All three men gave him concerned looks, II’s eyes travelled from Ivy's face to his plate, noticing the mess there he made with the fork barely eating something.
"You are strangely quiet today, mate. Are you okay?" Vessel asked him casually. III cleared his throat again, it seemed like it was the hundredth time this morning. Instead of answering to Vessel, Ivy looked at III and asked:
"What’s up with him today?"
II answered instead of III:
"Never mind. Feeling sick. Probably ate a lot of local food, and his stomach hasn’t adjusted to local stuff yet."
III silently nodded and cleared his throat again. He also had barely eaten anything.
"SO," Vessel turned his attention to Ivy again. "How are you today?"
This question had a dramatic effect. It hurt Ivy the most and he mumbled short “Okay”, looking down at his plate, picking his omelette with a fork.
"Are you sure? Is there something wrong?" Vessel continued trying to look into Ivy's eyes from beneath.
"Nothing’s wrong." Said Ivy calmly, but irritation gave itself away.
"Sure?" II asked, taking his turn.
"I said," he muttered. "Nothing is fucking wrong."
His bandmates went silent, all now eyeing him.
"You all stop staring at me, I'm not a British queen!" He abruptly stood up, threw his napkin on a table, grabbed his phone and went away.
If only he could slam the door loudly behind him, Ivy would do it with pleasure. But there was no opportunity for that.
He left Vessel, II and III sitting with their faces, looking like the surprised emoji.
"Someone is in his teenage mood again?" II asked, furrowing his brows.
"He is just being difficult again. You know him, when he craves attention. This is his way to ask for it. I’ll talk to him before we go to the soundcheck."
***
IVy was in his hotel room, lying on the bed. He had his favourite guitar in a room with him, so he lazily played something, holding the guitar against his belly. He heard someone knock at his room door, so he stood up with the guitar and went to open it. He saw Vessel standing there like a tall pale statue. IVy turned his back to Vessel, leaving the door open and came back to bed throwing himself on it, continuing what he was doing before.
Vessel came in, closing the door, and started to look around the room. His eyes travelled around its interior with attention, while listening to a faint quiet tune Ivy was playing on an unplugged guitar, and finally he stopped his gaze on his guitarist, whose face was grumpy, lips pursed in a little pout, while he was playing immersed into the process.
"How is MY boy?" Vessel asked finally.
"Stop talking to me like that. I am not your toddler." Ivy stopped playing and just continued petting his guitar with fingers, looking at it with affection.
"You’ve barely eaten anything, that’s not good, boy. We have a ritual to play today, and I need your energy and your full presence. Promise me you will eat at least at dinner time, okay?"
"Are you my grandmother?" Ivy spat back and carefully put his guitar on the bed beside him. "What do you want, Vess?"
Vessel sat onto the bed right beside Ivy's side and put his hand onto his thigh. That gesture sent shivers down the guitarist's spine, but he was so angry that he didn’t give Vessel any reaction. Vessel started fondling the cloth of Ivy’s sweatpants.
"How do you feel, Ivy? Something bothers you." He continued his interrogation.
"I want to go back home. I can’t wait for this tour to end."
"Oh, darling. You know that’s impossible. Well, tell me, what are you going to do, when we’ll be back home?"
"I don’t know. I feel it's unfair that I gave up my side project. I kinda want to write my own music."
"But, love, you can still write your own music anytime. I would punch anyone in the face, who would ever try to stop you."
"I wish I could return to do stuff with M*******."
Silence hung in the room. Vessel raised up his brows looking at IVy, but did not comment on this for a short while.
"Well, I guess, you could." He said bitterly, eying Ivy very attentively.
"You know that I can’t, and you know why." Ivy said with frustration. "But people back then said I have a frontman potential. I miss doing vocals too."
"So, you are angry, because you are not the frontman?"
"Of course not, stop questioning me!"
Vessel raised his both hands in a “giving up” gesture and said:
"Okay, I’ll stop trying to help you out or figure out what is wrong. Will you go to the soundcheck with us, or will you order a taxi for yourself, my lonely Star?"
"I’ll go with you. Meet you in a hallway."
***
At the soundcheck no one ever remembered about Ivy’s birthday either. Everything was just as always, and he started to give up on the dream to be surprised with at least a little affection from anyone from the crew. “I guess, it’s just not really important, stop being a child and do your job, as you were supposed to”, he kept telling himself. They continued working. Checked vocals and all the instruments. Everyone was nice and sweet, collegial and fully immersed in the creative process. Espera in their usual comfortable outfits were giving boys winks and sharing some inner jokes, while sound checking together.
Closer to the end of their check, someone announced that Bring me the Horizon arrived at the venue. That meant that they were the next to do sound checks and Ivy smiled to himself, because soon he would see and talk to Oliver Sykes again, do their little shenanigans and jokes as they usually did during this tour and every time they met. Ivy went to the dressing room alone to check on his stage outfit and to get ready for dinner following next according to their plan. And then he heard faint voices of his three band mates speaking right there in the corridor in front of the dressing room door.
"Have you talked to him? Is he okay?" He heard II asking Vessel.
"Yes, he’ll handle it. But our boy used the trigger word again."
"No way! Not C******** again."
"This time it was M********."
"But that was actually a good one!" III added and went silent again.
"Yeah, but you know, guys. This time you all just be easy on him," II said and they came to the dressing room discovering that Ivy was there. They all glued to their places and stared at their guitarist.
"Oh, you are here, MY bird." II said cooing and approached Ivy giving him a quick rushing kiss on his forehead, after that he continued:
"You need to eat with us all, IVy, breakfast barely made you full. We need to make you all stuffed with good Australian food, and maybe later after the ritual, we’ll make you stuffed with something else to make you content, right?"
That sounded so dirty and possessive that Ivy trembled inside, but being so offended and still bitter at them all for forgetting about his special day, he almost gave no reaction to this, despite usually he would lean and fall into II’s strong embrace.
***
After the dinner with the whole crew, while Ivy was devouring food, but still not spelling a single word, they went back to the venue and collapsed into their dressing room again. There they saw everything they usually demanded from their modest tour rider. Bottles of water for everyone stood on each of their dressing tables. Cans with the black body paint, neatly placed everywhere at their reach.
Vessel stood shirtless applying the body paint on his arms and abs everywhere, where he could reach himself without help first, and noticed that while they were applying their body paint, Ivy was clearly irritated, his movements mechanic as if he was doing it by force.
He first covered his hands and arms with the paint, and then immersed his fingers into the black thick liquid, closed his pretty blue eyes and just pressed his fingers to both eyes and eyelids creating the raccoon look. Looking at himself in a mirror, he pressed his whole palm to his mouth, as if he was shutting himself up, and painted his mouth that could be also visible under the mask. After putting his stage clothes on, he took his mask and put it on, finishing the look with his hood on and taking his leather jacket all decorated with little things he gathered from fans on tours. Vessel’s head made curious tilt while admiring his beloved guitarist and said:
"My love, you look devastatingly hot today. I wish I could crawl under your skin right now, but…"
"Good." Ivy said and left the dressing room, slamming the door behind him and making all three men give each other “knowing” looks.
***
As Ivy was ready and in his full get up, he went to see the rest of BMTH sound check and preparations, later shared hugs with Oliver and other mates, did casual small talks here and there, and didn't notice that it was almost the time to start their ritual.
It was, of course, totally not visible for the audience, but Vessel, II and III, noticed that Ivy was in a different mood during the ritual. If earlier he always eagerly participated in all the shenanigans and did all the silly gestures and put on all the offered hats from the crowd, this time he was just distant and cold. He stood on one and the same spot almost all the time and just played with an ignorant look, which was seen even under a mask. III barely forced him to play guitars standing back-to-back. But IVy did that anyway, because it was their iconic thing.
When they started to play “Offering”, he did several spins with guitar and all the men thought that his heart melted and they had their boy back, but when it was time for Vessel to come to IVy and give him a kiss, this happened. Ivy mechanically sank to his knees before Vessel, invitingly waving his index finger back and forth and Vessel slowly approached him. Vessel decided instead of giving him a kiss to whisper something personal to his ear, but to the crowd it might have seemed that he kissed his cheek or neck.
Vessel whispered:
"Any plans after the ritual, my Prince? I wanna fuck the shit out of you…"
"I had different plans." Was his guitarist’s strict and cold answer.
Vessel swallowed this lump of rejection and ran over to the keyboard for the final part of “Offering”.
***
When the ritual was over, Ivy was in the dressing room with everyone wiping off the grease paint with napkins first, planning to use the shower at the venue later before going back to the hotel. He noticed that his electronic hotel room key was missing and started to panic. He was looking in all his pockets, in his backpack and everywhere on his dressing table, but he hadn't found it. This fucking day couldn’t be worse for the poor guitarist! He shouted:
"FUCK!!! WHAT THE HECK’! Guys, have you seen my hotel key?"
"Have you lost it?" II asked him with concern and then added: "Okay, just don’t worry, okay? We will fix that at the hotel. They know us, we will figure this out. They definitely have more keys for cases like that."
"I JUST WANT THIS DAY TO END! I want to go to my room and just sleep!"
TO BE CONTINUED...