Ever since Brazil and the fiasco there, things have been different. If asked to explain how or why, I don't think any of us guys could tell you. The attack and near rape of Tarja on stage and the events that followed with her manager and (at the time) fiance, Marcello Cabuli may have been the start of the problems.
We were in the middle of the instrumental break in Fantasmic when a fan jumped on stage and pinned her to the ground. Security was on him in an instant and though he fought them away, he was manhandled off stage and that was the last that we saw of him. Tarja pulled herself together but for the rest of the concert if one of us got too close to her she would flinch away involuntarily. We were all incredibly proud of her for continuing to preform so well.
It was after the encore and the last bows that she finally cracked. I remember setting my bass down backstage and then being nearly knocked over by her pale form as she hurried past me, terror written on every feature. That was when the lights started flickering and I thought I saw the curtain near me move without a breeze. At that point I ignored it thinking that the strobe light that had been on the entire last half of the concert and the spazzing power now was to blame for my seeing things oddly.
I followed her to her dressing room door and saw that Marcello was already there, talking to her while she sat hunched in a chair, eyes wide and shining with tears. That's when I remembered them announcing their engagement and feeling the mingled anger, jealousy and relief. Relief that I wouldn't have to choose between her and my wife at any point. The jealousy was from the off and on relationship that we had been having. I was her rebound and I knew it, but that hadn't stopped me from developing feelings for her. When her legitimate relationships fell apart, she would come running back to me, trusting that I would help her pick up the pieces of her heart. I've never known, never been able to get up enough courage to ask her if we were just friends with benefits or if she felt for me as well. I was too afraid of what her answer would be.
"Mr. Hietala?" His Argentinian accent made my name sound oddly twisted, "Do you need something?"
I came out of my thoughts to find them watching me curiously. I realized that I was hovering in the doorway. Shaking my head, both to clear it and to signify 'no', I forced myself to speak past the lump in my throat, " Just wanted to ask how you were holding up and if I could do anything to help." My voice came out slightly choked and she looked at me closely.
"Marko, what is it? I'll be fine, don't worry." She pushed Marcello aside gently and came over to slide her arms around my neck and hug me. It started out stiff, her mind still trying to assimilate what had just happened to her, but she gradually relaxed and laid her head on my shoulder. "It's not your job to worry about me, you know?" It was muffled into my hair.
I pulled her closer to my body with a sigh, "Old habits die hard..." I hoped she didn't get the reference to Wish I Had An Angel. "You're amazing, you know that? I came here to help you and now you're helping me."
I looked up briefly, and saw that Marcello was watching us, an odd emotion in his eyes that slowly turned to jealousy as he met my gaze. I merely held his eyes for a moment, before looking back down at her and running my fingers through her long, black hair. It was moments like these that were all I was going to have of her again.
"Tarja." His voice broke the mood like a knife. She pulled back, something like regret in her eyes as they lingered on mine.
"Remember, don't worry." She turned to her fiance after that, and I knew that I was dismissed. With a heavy sigh, I turned and went to find the other guys.
They were already partying and I knew that there had been an unspoken agreement when they had realized that I wasn't there that I could handle Tarja. It was both a frustrating and warming feeling that they trusted me with something like that.
"Hey, you're back. How is our songbird?" It took me a second to realize that he was talking about Tarja, not me. I was the one with the wings, after all. Then I remembered that they didn't know. Jukka was drunk to be calling her that.
I grabbed the half-empty bottle of Finlandia that I'd brought off stage with me and took a swig, knowing that I would need it badly. "She seems to be handling it better than me at any rate."
Tuomas came over and took the bottle from me, taking a long drink from it, "She doesn't need you to worry about her anymore. She's got Marcello for that." He looked slightly shocked when I snatched the liquor back from him, glaring at him, and pushed past him roughly making him stumble. "What's your problem?!" He rubbed his shoulder where I'd collided with him.
"Don't talk to me about that." I snapped it at him, throwing myself onto the couch with a growl, wishing for once that I could just get the hell out of there and fly off to somewhere that I could think in peace.
He sat down next to me warily as though expecting me to lash out at him, "I thought you didn't have a problem with him? You're the only one who seems to get along with him."
"I don't have a problem with him, its them that bothers me." I looked at the label on the bottle in my hand, not really seeing it.
"Jesus, tell me you're not saying what I think you are," Emppu looked like he was about to hyperventilate. "You're married, for God's sake!"
"Tell me, Emppu. How many times can you be someones rebound man before you find that you've fallen in love with them? And the reality of it only hits you after they're engaged..." I sighed and looked morosely at the clear liquid inside the bottle for a moment before taking another long drink of it. It burned going down and I could feel the edges of my mind going numb.
The next time we had a concert, Marcello was hovering over her every second that he could. I understood his urge to, but when he started to dictate how she would do things to stay safe, he was going to far. I pointed this out to him and got a fist to the jaw, earning a scream from Tarja.
"What the hell was that for? He's right you know! They guys can keep me relatively safe on stage."
"Yeah," He spun on her, "Like last time? Where were they when that maniac jumped up and tried to take advantage of you?" He was advancing on her, his hand raised as though to slap her. I grabbed his arm and lost my footing as he whipped around and slammed me into the wall. His hand on the collar of my t-shirt, threatening to tighten and cut off my breathing.
He leaned in close to me, "Stay out of this, old man."His knee came up to press between my legs against the wall and I knew that if I pissed him off anymore that I was gonna end up with bruised testicles. Thankfully, the door opened then and Ewo came in with the guys.
"What the hell is going on here?!" Ewo's deep voice was harsh with anger and surprise.
"We were just clearing a few things up," he twisted his hand, choking me.
Jukka tried to pull him off of me and after a few unsuccessful attempts, managed to do so, handing him off to Ewo who took him out of the room. I steadied myself against the wall for a second as I let oxygen get back to my brain so I didn't pass out. I felt a gentle hand on my arm and then felt the soft touch of her fingers on my slightly throbbing jaw.
"I'm sorry. I think he's just worried for me. Will you be OK?" Her voice sounded as though she was trying not to cry.
"I'll be fine." I couldn't help but close my eyes and lean into the caress when she stroked my cheek.
"Tarja, Marko, we need to get ready to go on now." Tuomas sounded grave as he spoke from the door. "Are you OK?"
I stepped away from her and once again a saw that strange regret in her eyes "Yeah, I'm good. Let's do it." She went out the door before me and as I passed Tuomas he caught my arm.
"Don't let Marcello see what I saw two seconds ago. He wont hold back the knee then." He whispered it into my ear so the woman who was walking away from us wouldn't hear.
Sighing, I looked at him directly, "I don't know if I can do that. I'll try, certainly"
I was in my hotel room that night when I heard it the first time. Her voice, in my head. Marko... he's hurting me... Marko, please help me... don't let him hurt me. I know you would never let anything hurt me....... MARKO!!!!!.......
I dropped the glass of water that I was holding and it shattered, cutting my arm and making drops of blood fall onto the shards. Terrified for her safety, I called her cell phone.
To my relief and confusion, she picked up on the second ring and she sounded like she'd been asleep. "Marko? Why are you calling at one in the morning?"
"I had the sudden feeling that you were in danger, must be going senile in my old age." It was such a relief to hear her voice through the phone, to know that she was fine. We talked for a few more minutes before I realized that my arm was still bleeding and that it was ungodly early to wake someone up.
"Hey, I should probably let you get some sleep. I've got shattered glass all over my floor and arm. I need some myself. I'll see you at breakfast, OK?"
"Sure. G'nite, Marko." She hung up and I slumped down to sit on the bed. I watched fascinated as the red trails on my arm shone slightly in the moonlight and then got up slowly to wash them off. The soap and water stung and I felt my phantom wings twitch in response. I had to look in the mirror to make sure that the weren't there. That's when I realized that there was nothing stopping me from allowing myself to stretch in this room alone.
I stripped off my shirt and closed my eyes as I let down my barrier against my mutant genes and felt my wings flex against my back. With a grin, I opened my eyes and let my wings spread out completely, the tips brushing the wall on either side of me. Well the room's dimensions include twenty feet as the width, I thought to myself with a soft laugh. I caught myself walking toward the windows and stopped. No, there will be no flying for you tonight, Angel. Shaking my head, I suppressed the X-Gene again and collapsed onto the bed in only my jeans, exhausted. That was how I woke up the next morning.
