2 | Memory Lane

Caden Vitaro was sitting silently inside the chairman’s office. His back resting on the couch, his legs crossed, his eyes closed. He looked solemn and at peace, a wireless earphones plugged in his ears, as if disturbing him would not be a good idea. The twenty-nine-year old man had grew his naturally wavy hair, but not long enough to tie it back. A subtle hint of stubble dotted his chin, adding edge to his jawline.

Footsteps echoed but Caden was too lazy to compose himself.

If he was being honest, he dragged himself to office today, just because it was the chairman who called for him. For the last three years, he barely left his house, letting his instruments and notepads untouched, unable to bring himself back into his own rhythm. He knew the chairman was already frustrated at his behavior, and maybe it was the reason he called him up.

“How are you, Caden?” Mr. Roby’s voice got his attention, the old man’s voice still distinct and kind.

Caden opened his eyes, gently removing his earphones, playing with it in between his hands. His light brown eyes looked a bit bright today, as if he had enough sleep the night before.

“Just fine,” he answered.

“Just fine?” the man repeated, sitting opposite him on the couch. “What’s your definition of fine? ‘Just fine’ like everything feels normal, or ‘just fine’ like you just don’t give a damn anymore?”

Caden looked at the chairman. He had now greying hair, visible at the side of his head. The wrinkles on his eyes suddenly told him it had been a while since he last saw him.

“A little bit of both,” he answered truthfully. “I don’t know why I’m here, Roby. I knew Sean already told you that I’m willing to participate in the tribute concert. May I know what this meeting is all about?”

Mr. Roby clasped his hands together. He sighed. “He did tell me that, yes. But are you really? Because this will bring a lot of memories, Caden. This will hurt.”

He shrugged his shoulders, looking away. “The hurt is never going away. I just want what Hennesy wanted. I know Yohan wanted it too.”

“But do you?”

He felt a lump formed in his throat. “It doesn’t matter.”

“And why is that?” The chairman stared at him, waiting his answer with patience, like he always did.

“You know why.” Caden swallowed. He forced himself not to feel the same guilt gnawing at his stomach since the day the accident happened. “Everyone knows why, Roby. I don’t have any say on this. Besides, we will go on our lives after this concert. I just want this to end.”

Silence filled the room for a moment.

Caden could almost hear the ticking of time from his wrist-watch, the air lurking around them starting to get heavy. He hated feeling that way. He hated feeling anything at all.

“Take a break, Caden,” Mr. Roby said.

“I’m on a break for three years now.”

The chairman removed his eyeglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re not. You’re grieving for three years now and nobody pushes you to move on. You’re not well.”

“And how exactly do you know I’m not well?” Caden asked, raising an eyebrow, his nerves getting frazzled. “You know nothing.”

“What I know is you’re secretly blaming yourself for things that you have no control over. I know that you’re getting drunk alone and I know for sure that you’re not able to compose songs, play your piano or strung your guitar, let alone write lyrics. I know enough.”

Caden composed himself and straightened his back. “I don’t need a break, Roby.”

The chairman shook his head. “Well, I need you to take a break. I need you to find yourself again. Find your rhythm. I don’t care how are you going to do that in four months, but you have to find yourself before you take the stage again. I don’t like seeing you like this.”

The weight on his shoulder started to get heavy. Caden ran his hands down his face, once again feeling the exhaustion.

“What exactly do you need from me?” he asked, tone low.

Mr. Roby clapped his hands. “For you to get well. For you to write one more song before we call it quits.”

He nodded after considering his words. “Okay.”

“Okay? We’re in the same page now, Caden? Is that what your okay means?”

He just nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s great. I want you back here to see if you really did try to heal yourself, you got me? I want one song composed by you.”

Caden nodded his head again and stood up, shaking the chairman’s hand and started toward the door.

“Oh, and more thing, please,” Mr. Roby said, narrowing his eyes at him. “We can’t fully shoulder this tribute concert.  Half of the finances would be coming from sponsorship and the very first one who pledged is the BC Group. I’ll appreciate it if you treat Alara right. You know what I mean.”

“She’s the last person I needed if I wanted to get well,” Caden muttered, almost rolling his eyes. “But as long as she’s not being delusional then of course I’m treating her right.”

The chairman just nodded, waving him away.

****

Something was strange, Caden thought to himself.

Everything was so quiet. The world suddenly stilled as if somebody hit the pause button to let the chaos and noise melt down for a little while.

Everything felt dream-like. He was barefoot yet couldn’t feel anything, no tick and no echo of his footsteps. There was nothing but void and Caden was in the middle of it.

Just then, he saw a wooden bridge, the other end seemed the beginning of an entirely different place from where he currently was. At the other side of the playground was a café, the rich aroma of coffee soothed his nerves. Curiosity nagged at him, a silent voice nudging him to cross the bridge.

Don’t go! Don’t go!

Caden felt a zap of electricity inside his chest, muffled voices suddenly echoed in his ear for a fleeting second.

Please, you have to make it back!

He looked over his shoulder but nobody was there.

The next thing Caden knew, he jolted up, running his hands down his face.

The same dream bombarded his sleep. How he wished it would just stop.

His hands balled into fists, his veins showing, his knuckles turning white. That was the thing. Sometimes he felt too much, that he felt like he would burst out. And the other times, he felt nothing at all. There was no gray area for him. Either he would feel it all or would shut himself down. No in betweens.

He just arrived at his hometown hours ago when exhaustion took him to sleep. Now he regretted sleeping at all.

Caden ran down the stairs, finding Wency locking the front door.

“I need a drink,” he answered.

Wency, with his buzz cut and bulky body, looked at him and angled his head to the right, measuring his boss’ mood. He had been with the band for as long as he remembered and his job was to protect the band from crazy people trying to claw them. Their security came first, second and third.

“It’s already quarter past ten, sir.” Wency glanced at the wall clock.

“And that’s a perfect time for a drink. Small towns like these? People are already tucked in bed. Nobody would notice me here.”

Part of the break that Chairman Roby gave him was for him to choose any quiet place for his vacation. Caden chose his childhood town. That was where he first dreamed, where he first sang with a crowd, and where he met Sean, their manager.

“If you say so,” Wency said, motioning toward the door. “I’ll get the car ready.”

South Ganuala was a far cry to the place he remembered it as. Gone were the old establishments near his high school where he frequently hangout with his friends and the once massive vacant lots that had a poster ‘for lease’ already had buildings and cafes and parks bloomed like mushrooms.

He asked Wency to stop the car and decided he wanted to stroll around.

“There are too many people, sir.” Wency stated, scanning the area. “You sure people here are already asleep at this time?”

Caden chuckled. “The town’s changed, Wence. It’s okay. It’s fine. They wouldn’t notice me. They wouldn’t care.”

The bodyguard couldn’t help but to just sigh. “Where to? Do you want me to find a nice restaurant for late dinner? You haven’t eaten yet.”

“You’re my bodyguard, not my mother. Please don’t nag.” Caden watched through his heavy tinted windows a bunch of teenagers who seemed enthusiastically performing on the side street.

Caden couldn’t help but to reminisce. Wasn’t he used to be like that? The corner of his lips turned up, a smile that put a pinch on his chest. He was feeling too much again.

“Stop the car right there at the side,” he said. “I want to stroll around.”

Wency did as told, carefully parking the car. Caden grabbed his black ball cap and lowered it to his head, enough to put shadows on his eyes to cover them. He also put on his hoodie, thankful that the night was a bit chilly than what he had expected.

He roamed along the side street, familiarizing himself again to his hometown. As a teenager growing up, he remembered being too excited to leave the place. Now that he had been in the city for far too long, he realized he craved the peaceful vibe of a town like this.

Some people bumped into him, not even giving him a second look as they murmured their sorry. He didn’t even realize they had reached the welcome arch of the town. Now he could tell why there were many people on the road. They were near the famous dandelions field and sunflower farm, a must see for tourists.

Suddenly, his stomach churned at the rich filled coffee aroma lingered to where he was, as if the smell was intentionally inviting him to the café. He wanted to drown himself to alcohol but he couldn’t ignore the smell of coffee. Maybe, the café had other drinks to offer, as it shows ‘coffee and bar’ below the name.

Wency gently stopped him. “I’ll check if they have table for you,” he said in his usual serious tone.

Caden just shrugged his shoulders and trailed behind his bodyguard as they entered the café.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” a voice rang out. The guy was tall with a neat hair, eyes guarded and a sharp jawline. He had long lashes for a guy and thick eyebrows, giving him a boyish look. Honestly, he looked like a model than a café owner.

Obviously, the café lights were already dimmed, the only lights on were the one hanging above the cash register and faint light coming from the back kitchen.

Wency pointed at the signage. “Says you’re open until 12. We still have 30 minutes.”

“Not today, buddy. We’re closing early.” The guy insisted, motioning them to the door.

“Are you the store owner?” Wency asked, narrowing his eyes to the guy.

“I am,” another voice rang out. “Is everything okay?”

They all turned out to where the voice came from, seeing a woman in a lilac dress, an oversize jacket draped over her shoulders.

“Actually, we’re hungry, and we just wanted to try the food here.” Wency surely would talk his way in.

“It’s fine, Wence, we can try another café. Not a big deal,” Caden said in a low voice, lowering his head as his hand reached out to his bodyguard.

“The only available now in our menu are the food-to-gos, is that okay with you?”

Wency regarded his boss, a contended smile on his face. “That okay with you, sir?”

Everyone was looking at him, awaiting his answer.

Caden was about to decline, not wanting attention, when he got a glimpse of the café owner.

Damn.

He felt his heart kicked, his stomach tensing. Slightly lifting his head and averting his eyes to fully see her, Caden knew he was supposed to be there.

He had only dreamed of seeing her again.