I Can't Fight This Feeling.
Written By; Sue Has.
Date Started; 27th July 2017.
Introduction;
The year was 1999; when a group of 9 rambunctious young men burst into the metal scene, and they changed the face of the dwindling genre. No one could have predicted the surge of positivity that came from their, almost, sudden appearance. With their unique style of grotesque masks and boiler suit attire – they were quite the spectacle to behold.
Of course the band being referenced is Slipknot!
No one knew, least of all the band themselves, that they were going to be such a hit, not their phenomenal success. There had been nothing like them in the music industry and they instantly became the band of the alternative lifestyle – the misfits, the kids who were bullied and those whom merely loved the theatrics of it all.
That first gig that they played; was photographed by an 18-year-old photographer who was just starting out in her chosen career path. No one could have foretold the future that the band and this young photographer would be cemented for a lifetime. After that first gig, the young girl became the 'official' photographer for the band.
18 years later; the lead singer; Corey Taylor and the photographer; Emily Banks, would find themselves on a very unexpected road. Their lives were about to take a very drastic turn and no one knew that the true danger that these 2 friends were about to face. Something that everyone, apart from Corey and Emily, could see would come to fruition and take everyone by surprise.
L.A.
Corey Taylor;
Stalking around my large master bedroom; ripping cloths from their hangers or out of drawers with one hand while I held the phone with my other hand at my ear. The scent of my wives many candles was thick in the air while she was banging around downstairs in a mood because I was trying to talk to talk to my best friend. The truth is; when she heard that I was planning on traveling over to see her, my wife; Charlotte, was going to have a colossal shit fit.
"Damn it Em's; answer your phone! I am worried about you," I growled into the speaker. In all honesty, I didn't even know if she was even listening to her messages, or reading the texts or emails that I had sent.
The minute I ended the call; I quickly dialled the airport to book a ticket to Scotland where my best friend resided when she wasn't working. All the while I kept stuffing cloths into my bag. Securing the seat with my credit card I ended the call, took a few deep breaths before heading downstairs to let my wife know that I was indeed intending on leaving to see my best friend. I really wasn't relishing the inevitable bitch fit that I knew was going to come my way from my announcement.
In all honesty, I didn't understand my wives attitude when it came to Emily. My best friend was already my best friend when I met Charlotte. My wife had married me knowing that Emily was my best friend – she had been ok with it so what was her problem now? Without realising it – my wife was pushing me away.
"Well did you get a hold of her?" Charlotte asked as she cleared away the breakfast stuff.
"No!" I knew that it was about to kick off and I really wasn't in the mood. My mind was on my best friend and if she was ok. I didn't want to deal with my wife and her paranoid theories.
This past year had been like living in a nightmare. My wife was gone – she had been replaced by this paranoid, obsessive, clingy and insecure woman. I had never given her any cause to worry about me; I married Charlotte because I loved her, I had never strayed, I had never ignored her texts or her calls when I was on the road and I rarely hung out with my friends anymore. I just didn't understand why she was being like this with me.
"That's a shame!" my wife retorted sarcastically.
"Actually, it is because I'm going to have to fly over there," I replied and waited in baited breath for the inevitable eruption to come.
"What!?" with the speed in which she turned to look at me, I was surprised that she didn't get whiplash, "why?"
"Why? Really!?" I exclaimed feeling my anger rising; she just nodded her head in response to my questions, "she has just lost her parents, Charlotte!"
"I know that Corey!" my wife hissed, "what I don't understand is; why it's your problem!"
I honestly, hand on my heart, couldn't believe what I was hearing. This woman was my wife but I absolutely didn't recognize her anymore. Where was her compassion? Where was her concern? I didn't understand because Charlotte was normally a kind-hearted woman who would go out of her way to help anyone in need; but it was like she had a personal vendetta against my best friend and I didn't understand why, Emily had always been nothing but nice about her.
"'Lotte she's my best friend," I sighed as I lit a cigarette in the hope that it would calm my building rage, "when we lost Paul; she was right there, no questions asked,"
"But why do you have to be the one to go to her?...why is it always you?"
Without a conscious thought, I began pacing. I couldn't believe that my wife was being so completely callous and when I didn't answer I knew what was coming next because this is always how the conversation went.
"Are you sleeping with her?"
I really couldn't keep having the same fight with her. I didn't cheat – as hard as it is to believe; I hadn't strayed from a girl since my 20's and I got married with no intention of ever doing so. It didn't matter how many times I tried to assure my wife – she had become paranoid beyond all belief and I just didn't know how to get through to her. I didn't even know if my wife was still in there.
"How many fucking times are we going to have this conversation, 'Lotte?"
"Until you tell the truth!"
"You're crazy!" the minute I said it, I knew that it was the absolutely wrong thing to say.
My instincts and reflexes were slow as a knife sailed through the air towards my head. Almost at the last second, I side stepped but I was too slow as the blade just grazed my cheek and embedded in the door that led to the garage. The heat of blood trickled down my cheek and I saw red.
"Have you lost your fucking mind!?" I roared reaching for napkins to place against my wound.
"Tell me the fucking truth!" there was no talking to her when she reached this level of insanity.
"I have told you the fucking truth – you're just being fucking paranoid!"
This time my reflexes weren't so slow as I ducked as a bowl came flying at my head; smashing against the wall where the pieces rained down to the floor. The sound vibrating around the room; bouncing off the walls in the most perfect harmony I had ever heard.
"Don't tell me that you don't find her attractive!"
The truth was; Emily was an extremely beautiful girl whom had grown in to a genuinely gorgeous woman. I had seen the men literally fall at her feet from the moment that she had started working with us. I had resigned myself to the fact that we would only ever be friends because I just couldn't compete with the guys who seemed to swarm around her. In complete honesty, I hadn't looked at Emily in a sexual way in over 10 years; long before Charlotte and I even knew one another.
Emily was honestly my best friend and we had faced so much together. I would end my marriage before I ended the friendship I had with Emily. Apparently, I was taking too long to reply as a cup came flying at my head.
What was I doing?
Was this really worth it? I couldn't keep doing this. Clearly, I may as well have been talking to a brick wall; as my wife wasn't listening to a damn word I said. I mean I was being accused, why not do it? At least then she would have basis to her paranoia.
"I'm done!"
"What the fuck do you mean by that?" she screeched.
"I mean I can't…I won't do this anymore!" stalking out of the kitchen, I tore a path to the bedroom, grabbed my bag, my wallet, phone and keys.
"Where are you going?" my wife demanded as I landed back on the bottom floor of the house.
"I'm leaving," I needed space. I couldn't breathe here and I felt completely smothered.
"Where are you going? To hers I bet!"
"Not tonight but I am leaving for Scotland tomorrow night,"
Pulling the door open and left before she could say or do anything else. My marriage was in more trouble than I had thought. I don't think that Charlotte and I are going to make it. It was nothing to do with Emily – my wife had just hammered the final nail in the coffin of our marriage. By her complete lack of faith in me; she had made it impossible for me to stay. And impossible for me to come home.
Climbing behind the wheel of my mustang, I pressed the play button on the car stereo to be greeted by the distinctive voice of Bruce Dickenson and Iron Maiden. Turning the key in the engine and roared out of the drive way.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the rear-view mirror – I could see a pretty long gash on my face and it was still bleeding. My wife had gone too far this time. Things were beyond repair and as sad as it made me feel; I knew that I needed to file for divorce. Now that things had become physical; I just couldn't and I wouldn't let it continue anymore – one of us had to be rational.
My marriage was officially over!
Turning my car in the direction of one of my sister's houses; I needed to sleep somewhere tonight and I knew that one of them would put me up. With the window open and Maiden on the stereo; I felt the calmest I had in the longest time. I just hoped that Emily was ok.
What Emily and I had; wasn't something that could be easily defined. In fact, Emily called me her platonic husband. I could almost see her if I concentrated hard enough – her shoulder length blonde hair, her aqua green eyes that I swear had men falling at her feet. The best thing about my best friend was that she was always so supportive and honest. I had thought that my wife was all those things but her behaviour of late was obsessive, controlling, aggressive and now violent.
Parking my car in my sister, Sky's driveway, next to my other sister Annalise's car. I was lucky that I had sisters; whom I genuinely got along with. Emily had no one. My friend was dealing with the death of her parent's all alone. I just hoped that she could hold out another couple days until I got there. For her not to answer any form of communication was a sign to me that she wasn't doing too good.
What my wife didn't understand was that I had promised Emily's dad; Gavin, that I would take care of his daughter. It was an easy promise to make because I had always taken care of her and looked out for her.
"What the hell happened to you!?" my younger sister Sky demanded when she opened the door and saw my face.
So, for the next half hour, I explained to both my sisters what had transpired between myself and my wife. The whole time Annalise was trying to clean the slice on my cheekbone.
"Well big brother you know our opinion on the Emily situation," Annalise announced.
Along with my sisters, my mates and band members thought that Emily and I belonged together. It was an opinion that I knew didn't help with Charlotte's paranoid theories. I didn't know what to do for the best. Maybe I was meant to be with Emily. However, could it ever work due to the sheer length and strength of our friendship?
Emily was the one who was supportive, she was kind, understanding, gentle, compassionate and always willing to listen. There was the added bonus of her being absolutely gorgeous.
"I do," I nodded. My thoughts of my best friend racing away from me.
"Well you are being accused so you may as well!" Sky urged me.
Sky was the spunky of the two sisters who, had she been in my position would have just said right well you clearly want it to happen so I will go and do it. With little patience for people who were about drama or just looking for problems – she would demonstrate her ruthless personality and never apologised for it. I admired her for her that trait alone.
Annalise was almost the polar opposite – she believed in giving people chances, she believed in listening to what people had to say and trying to work on a problem together but if after her trying to offer solutions, she would become just as ruthless as Sky and I admired her for her patience.
I knew that both my sisters hated my wife. They had sussed her out from day one apparently. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that they were really close to Emily too. The 3 had met through me and they had just hit it off, they would go on girly holidays together, they would hang out and just laugh. Together they were a force to be reckoned with and I couldn't help but wonder if that was another thing that made Charlotte so paranoid. Even if it were, she should know me better than that by now – I wouldn't do something if I didn't want too. I was as stubborn as a mule and that was on my good days.