Chapter 10: I'm Not Creed

CLOVER'S POV:

"So, when am I going to be allowed to see Creed?" I ask.

My dad is sitting behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loose. To look at him you'd never guess his son is in the hospital.

"Not today, Clover."

"Why?" I press.

"He's still not awake." Even if he doesn't look concerned, he sounds exhausted.

"What?" I'm floored. How can he not be awake?

"Your mum is with him. The doctors said it could take a few days."

"But..."

"Please Clover," he glances up at me, his elbows on the desk and his face in his hands, "just go with it."

"Go with it? Are you insane?"

"I haven't got time for this, Clover."

He climbs to his feet, pulling some papers together. Then he's walking around the desk. As far as he's concerned this conversation is over and I'm supposed to just do as I'm told.

I follow him out the door.

"What do you expect me to do?" I sound petty but I can't keep pretending to be my brother. One concert should have been more than enough. "You should cancel..."

"There will be no cancelling." He stops dead, turning to face me. "You will do everything he would be doing."

"But..."

He groans.

"Goodness sake. Is it too much to ask? One thing. I'm asking one thing."

"No, you're demanding and it's not one thing. It's about a thousand."

"Just use it as an opportunity to get ready to go solo."

His words remind me that my dad doesn't know me at all.

I stop following him because there really is no point. My parents decided how my life would go years ago and there's no way in hell they'll let me stand in the way of their dream.

I lean against the railings as I watch my father make his way down the stairs. Resting my head on the cool metal, I try to gain at least a shred of composure.

Why the hell won't they tell me anything?

I don't even know if my brother is okay or how badly he was injured in the accident. All I know is that he's asleep. For all I know he could be in a coma or on death's door, but they have no intention of telling me jack sh*t.

The stylist who helped me yesterday and another girl I don't recognise are making their way towards me, carrying coffees.

"We got you a cappuccino, Creed," the girl I don't know says.

"Thanks," I reply, accepting the coffee from her.

She looks at me expectantly and I'm at a complete loss because I don't even know her name. Fortunately, Crimson comes to my rescue.

"Nona and I are going to find the others. Wanna come? Apparently, Rigs is looking for you."

So, this is Nona.

I've heard a lot about her. I look her over as stealthily as possible. This is the girl my brother likes.

She's pretty, I'll give him that. She's definitely his type. Shy. He's always had a thing for quiet girls.

I want to get to know her, find out more about her but I'm scared that I'll fuck it up for my brother by not knowing something he's supposed to know. It would be far too easily done.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to respond. I don't like the idea of lying to anyone, but it feels especially bad lying to her.

"I'm alright."

"That's good."

I try to think of something else to say, preferably about something else entirely but my mind is a complete blank. I'm grateful when we arrive at the studio where the rest of the band are waiting for us. The girls make quick work of handing out the coffees.

"Where's Rigby?" Crimson asks.

Ziggy is the first to respond. "Went looking for Creed." He's lounging against the wall lazily.

I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to be doing. It's all a bit daunting, one tiny mistake and the whole lie could crumble. Me and Creed might look alike but personality wise, there's no similarity at all.

Jumping out of my skin, I turn towards the door when Rigby thunders into the room. He barks for the girls to leave, completely ignoring the coffee they offer him. He gives me a look of pure thunder and I wonder what the f*ck I've done now.

"Does anyone have anything?" Rigby asks. "Anything at all that could possibly go on the next album?"

The lads are all quiet and for the most part they're looking at me. Rigby and Creed write most of the songs. The problem is I have no idea if Creed has been writing anything. I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs that I'm not Creed but really, what would that achieve.

"Er, do you?" I go for a counterattack instead of defence.

"I have a few songs but they're not ready for the album," he admits, barely looking at me, his eyes angry.

"Well, why don't we work on one of those today?" I suggest.

I'm not sure what I've done to p*ss him off this time. Sighing, I take a seat. We're going to achieve jack shit like this.

"Perhaps we should all just work alone for today?" I ask when he doesn't reply.

Apparently, that's a mistake.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

Rigby's eyes are seriously staring daggers right at me but no matter how much I'm intimidated, I can't react because today I'm not Clover, I'm Creed and Creed doesn't get intimidated by d*ck heads.

"What the hell, Rigs?" Jett cuts in, coming to my defence.

"Yeah, come on man. This isn't cool."

Nash pats Rigby on the back.

Rigby pulls away, making his way towards me. I'm backing up, trying to work out what the hell is happening. I have no idea what's wrong with him.

"You b*stard!"

He prods his finger into my shoulder. It hurts but I don't flinch. I can't flinch because Creed wouldn't flinch. I'll be guaranteed to bruise.

"I heard you talking to your dad."

Panic grips me and I think I'm going to throw up. He knows I'm a girl. There's no other explanation. I look towards Jett, silently begging him to help although I'm not sure what I want him to do exactly.

"You're going solo," Rigby grits out.

"What?"

"You heard me," he replies angrily. "You're planning a solo album."

"Creed wouldn't do that."

Nash's expression is a mixture of disbelief and betrayal. Ziggy is nodding his head in agreement with Nash.

Coming to stand beside me, Jett says, "Creed has no intentions of leaving the group."

"Shows what you know."

Rigby squares his shoulders, crossing his arms. He doesn't even glance at the others, just stares right at me.

There's no way for me to win this. He's right. He heard what he heard. Instead of trying to defend myself, I push past him and out the door. I've only been doing this for a day and already things are well and truly f*cked up. I have no idea how my parents expect this to work.

Running down the corridor, I lock myself in a second studio room. Leaning against the door, I try once more to call my mum, but she doesn't answer.

Disappointed as usual, I take a seat at the piano.

I begin to play the melody that has been in my head for the last few days, the one I've yet to write lyrics for. I try my best to forget the situation with Saving Creed, forget my irresponsible parents, forget that I still don't know if Creed is okay.

Focusing all my attention on the notes my fingers touch, I lose myself in the sound that gentle touch can create.

At some indeterminable point, I start singing. I don't know where the words come from, they just do.

"I'm caged in, confined. Restricted by words."

I allow my fingers to move seamlessly across the keyboard.

"Wrapped in someone else's dream, I'm caged in, confined," I jot the words down before continuing, "Restricted by words, wrapped in someone else's dream."

"You leave the cage door open. It's an illusion, mocking me." The music sounds more mournful than it had when I first wrote it, as if I'm putting all my emotions into it. "Telling me that I am free. Telling me that I can escape."

Glancing up, I notice Rigby just beyond the glass. He's leaning against the far wall. I can't tell if he's still angry. I'd be livid if I was him.

I continue to sing, trying my best not to faulter even though I'm daunted by him watching me.

"But I'm caged in, confined, restricted by words, wrapped in someone else's dream."

I breathe, not taking my eyes of him, almost wishing that this song could tell him everything that I'm unable to.

"I'm caged in, confined, restricted by words, wrapped in someone else's dream."

I glance up and notice that at some point he's turned on the recording button, so I give up trying to write down what I'm singing.

"You let me fly free. There's a time limit, holding me. Living for those moments when I feel finally free."

I sing the chorus again, a tear on my cheek. I try to pretend that he's not there but it's not easy. He's not someone easily ignored.

"When will I finally be free of this destiny you've forced on me. When will you finally see that I'm not who you want me to be."

My voice cracks as I feel a sob rise in my throat. I wish my parents could hear this song except they'd not hear the meaning behind it. Instead they'd only see the money it can make them.

"Cause, I'm caged in, confined, restricted by words, wrapped in someone else's dream, someone else's dream."

I continue to play, ignoring how my heart is racing angrily in my chest, demanding that I allow myself to cry. I can't cry. Right now, I'm not Clover Levon. I play the piano so softly that the sound fades into almost no-existence and then I pull my fingers away, sitting back.

Rigby comes forward, pressing the button so that I can hear him.

"Let me in," he says softly, the anger from earlier seemingly gone.

Unsteadily, I get to my feet and unlock the door. He barrels in and pulls me into a bear hug. I'm surprised and my racing heart lurches with the shock. He pulls me back so that he can look at me.

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" I ask because I'm a bit confused. I don't get how we've done a complete one eighty in a matter of minutes.

"I know the pressure your parents put on you. I should never have taken that conversation to heart."

I nod my head once, looking up at him beneath my lids as stealthily as possible.

"I'm really not going solo," I tell him and although it's not a lie - Creed is not going solo - I still feel like I'm lying to him.

His hands release my shoulders and for the first time since he entered the room, he looks away from me. His eyes wander to the piano.

"Your song is really good."

"Thanks."

I feel awkward receiving a compliment from him. He feels too close. The distance between us is not enough. But then I remind myself that to him at least, I'm not a girl.

Lately Lyrics

Lately I found myself running

Been dreaming about you a lot

And up in my head I'm your boyfriend

But that's something you've already got

You're insecure

Because he's no good for you

You turn heads when you wiggle that ass

But he doesn't see exactly what he's got

He doesn't know just how lucky he is

Why don't you just walk out that door

Leave him standing there alone

Why don't you just walk out that door

I'll be there to take you home

Lately I tried playing it cool

But when I'm looking at you

I can't ever understand why you're still with him

When he doesn't know how beautiful you are

You're insecure

Because he's no good for you

You turn heads when you wiggle that ass

But he doesn't see exactly what he's got

He doesn't know just how lucky he is

Why don't you just walk out that door

Leave him standing there alone

Why don't you just walk out that door

I'll be there to take you home

One way or another you've got to walk out that door

Need you to see that I would treat you better

One way of another I need to stop running away

Need you to see that I would love you stronger

One way of another you've got to walk out that door

Need you to see that he's no good for you

But I can't compete with your boyfriend

Need you to see

Need you to see

Need you to see

Lately I love you