One Voice - Chapter 3 - The Gods Look Down

“Please ask Daniel to call me, Joanie, it's very important.” Louise could hear the sound of music coming from Daniel's room, even from the front door of his house. She glanced past Joanie in the direction of the music hoping to see Daniel appear, but the sound continued quite loudly.

“Sorry love, but Daniel's asked not to be disturbed. He's very low at the moment. I don't know what happened the other day but, he's stayed in his room all day yesterday and today just practicing his songs.” Joanie's kind face couldn't conceal her concern about her son. Louise thought for a moment and decided to confide in Joanie about the situation.

“Look, Joanie, I know I upset Dan the other day and maybe I was wrong but, Daniel has an opportunity tonight, that he must not miss. He has an appearance booked on a high profile talent show or RTV. We had to pull some strings to get him there and I can't bear the thought of him not taking the chance. It could mean everything, exposure, success. Please, if I can't see him myself, will you talk to him for me, for his sake?” She paused, leaning in and grasping the older lady's hand. “And for yours Joanie. I know life has been hard for you, and I know you are unwell. Dan can change both of your lives. He can be happy, and the world can see what you and I see Joanie, that special spark, that innocence that makes him so lovable.”

Joanie smiled as she nodded in response. She knew that Daniel was special to both herself and Louise, in that moment, something undefinable was communicated between the two women, a deep love and appreciation for that remarkable, gentle young man.

“If he speaks to me, I'll tell him, but I know what he believes and what he won't do, Louise.”

Louise smiled weakly and turned to make her way to her car. As she opened the door of it, she looked back towards Joanie, and the smile was gone. “The world needs Daniel, Joanie” she said, with a touch of sadness in her voice. Then she was gone.

Joanie made her way along the passage and stood outside Daniel's room for a moment. She thought about everything Louise had said, about the chance being offered to her dear son. She wanted so much for Daniel to be appreciated, to be happy and, yes, to fall in love and be with someone for all his life, someone who would treasure him as she did. She was aware that her time left with Daniel may be short. For a brief moment, Joanie was tempted to bang on the bedroom door and lay the law down, as a mum, as she had done so many times when he was younger. But the moment passed and she knew that it was not the way this time, this was her son's decision and she respected his principles, in fact, it was the thing she was most proud of about him. She walked to the living room, poured herself a glass of wine and just sat and listened to the beautiful sound of Daniel's music coming from his room.

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As Daniel neared the entrance to the studio door on the well-lit high street, he paused to catch his breath and consider what he was about to do. He stood inside a closed shop entrance against the wall just along the road from his destination, looking down at the floor, composing himself and trying to overcome the sheer terror of his intended plan. Could he really go through with this? He was Daniel Brown, an unassuming nobody who, until recently had been happy to stay in the background, happy to stay away from the glare of publc attention, the scrutiny of strangers and, above all, the judgement of the world. This was no place, no world for the likes of him!

Yet, as he almost turned to run away, he suddenly thought of Max, of the stinging words he had hurled at him. Daniel found the anger rising in his chest again, his resentment and.... and what? Yes, there it was, his jealousy! He could not help but feel betrayed by Max's influence, his control over Louise, over the woman that Daniel had come to love. Daniel sensed a conflict within her, a struggle between knowing what was good and beautiful in life but accepting the ugly truth of selfishness and practicality. He wanted so much to take her away from her life of dealing and desires, of plotting and manipulating and to show her real kindness, real beauty, and most of all, real love. He thought of Louise as a flower planted in a factory. All that she needed was sunlight and warmth and she would flourish and grow and shine. And then Daniel knew that she, Louise, was as much a reason for his determination to see this through as was the need for revenge and to show the world how wrong and miserable it was. He had to do this, tonight, he had to be Siro, the vengeful demi-god of music. He had to wipe his own personality away, just for a few hours and play a part that would demand every cell of energy in his young body, every ounce of focus in his mind and every drop of fading courage in his heart.

Yet still he doubted. As he looked over at the large doorway where large security men stood scanning the area and challenging any and all who tried to enter, he knew that he did not have it inside of him to pull this off. As the first spots of rain fell on his brow, he sighed deeply, ready to acknowledge who he really was and to fade back into obscurity. His grip tightened on his guitar case as he placed his other hand into his jean pocket, only to feel something unfamiliar. He pulled the contents out and peered at them in the dim light of the doorway. Tablets - the ones Lenny had offered him at the festival. It was as though this was being brought to his attention, as if these small white promises had been made for this one special moment, as though the gods themselves were offering a way for Daniel to become Siro. Before Daniel could think too much about it, the pills were in his mouth and he was swallowing them. He had plunged himself unwittingly into the laps of the gods, or perhaps into Hell itself.

He stood waiting for a few moments, not sure what to expect. His hand went to the mask hanging around his neck. He pulled it from his body and peered at it. The metallic surface caught the glint of the streetlights across the way, pronouncing the stern, classic image of the soulless face of a Greek statue. The mask would hide all of Daniel's features except for his mouth. He slipped the mask onto his wet face. It felt cold and alien, and his vision was immediately restricted but, somehow, he suddenly felt hidden, protected from the glare of the outside world, like he had covered himself in camouflage. He felt the long hair of the wig he had bought, it's dark curls blending seamlessly with the edge of the mask. He turned to catch a glimpse of himself in the shop window. What he saw made his head swim. Standing before him was a creature, a silhouette of mystery, of theatre. The look was complete, no-one would know who he was, they would have to know him now as “Siro.” He was sure he had thought of everything, the locked bedroom door, the recordings of his singing sessions playing loudly so that his mother would never know that he had sneaked out of the back window. He had his security pass and introductory letter - the new, doctored letter. And as he stepped out into the light he realised that he had something else driving him on, a new feeling. His heart was pounding now, he could feel the sweat on his forehead. His muscles felt strangely tense but his steps felt light and springy. He took a last deep breath and stepped towards the entrance to the TV studio. Daniel was determined not to be himself but to be Siro - bold and rude and egotistical. He had to make an immediate impression to establish his credentials, his new personality.

“Artists and guests only mate, the Halloween party is down the road”, came the brusk voice. Daniel froze in his steps and looked up at the source of the challenge. For a moment, he was speechless, as though someone had stolen his faculties. But as the large bald man looked past him with contempt and indifference, Daniel raised his guitar to eye level and grinned. “What do you think this is, a grenade launcher?” he jeered. Even as he spoke the words, he cringed inside knowing that he was dealing with a man who was paid to be violent. But it was too late, the Concierge/Doorman/Bouncer/Thug had grabbed his shirt collar and was yanking him in for an advisory word/dressing down/beating.

“You being funny boy?” he snarled. Daniel could smell the alcohol and ciggarrette smoke on the man's breath and could see the broken lines of the garish tattoo of a naked lady embracing a sword, on his ridiculously wide neck.

“Okay, you over-did it a bit there Siro” he thought to himself, hoping desperately to be able to diffuse this potentially perilous encounter. Straining under the tee-shirt pinching his throat, Daniel conjured as casual a smile as he could muster and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, calm down man, I was kiddin. I thought you men of the world enjoyed a bit of banter. With the creeps and snobs you must have to face every night I thought you might want a laugh now and then. I respect you man.” He paused, wiping the smile from his face, “But, I am an artist, and not only an artist but, someone who is destined to become a household name this very night. People are gonna remember me, my friend and I will remember you as the loyal guard who has a sense of humour. I might be needing solid, reliable men like you soon.”

As Daniel spoke, he felt a surge of adrenaline in his whole body. He was terrified but excited, desperate but somehow confident. As the man's face showed no sign of softening he quickly reached into his pocket and held up his security pass.

“See? I'm an artist, like I said, got an appearance on TV tonight, bit of a drag but, someone's gotta do it ay mate?” Daniel held his breath, hoping that this fake bravado would keep him alive and out of hospital. The man looked down at the pass, looked back at Daniel and finally released his grip. A toothy grin now appeared on the giant's red face and he motioned with his thumb for Daniel to proceed past him. “In you go then” he muttered. But just as Daniel was passing him, with a sigh of relief, he felt an arm block his path. Daniel looked up awkwardly, it seemed that he had not convinced the hulk after all. The man turned his bulky head sideways toward him and said “And remember me when your famous, the name's Reg.”

Daniel breathed again and smiled with sheer delight. “Your the first name on my hire list Reg. Keep up the good work. Oh, and by the way, I'm Siro, remember that name - Siro”

As Daniel entered the large reception area, he could see a lot of activity, people rushing to and thro with documents and wires and such. There were several younger people gathered around a semi-circle seating area, some of them looking very nervous. There were more heavyweight bouncers guarding the passage leading to the studio doors at the rear. A young woman dressed in black behind a desk, called out to Daniel as he made his way casually through the open area.

“Sir, do you have an appointment, Mr...?”

Daniel composed himself and made his way over to her. He placed his guitar down on the floor and gazed around nonchalantly. He felt surprisingly at ease and when he spoke, he found himself putting on a deep smooth accent.

“The question is girl, does the world have an appointment with Siro, are they ready for me?”

The girl behind the desk was a little taken aback by this strange comment. She half-smiled but crossed her arms slightly impatiently.

“Is that your name, Siro?

Daniel continued to avoid her stare but smiled back.

“I was asked to come in place of a Daniel Brown. He can't make it, so our agent arranged for me to appear instead.” He paused for a moment and then leaned in very close to her face. It was only then that she caught sight of the mask. Caught unawares she stepped back slightly. “Between me and you, lovely lady, you got the better deal. This Daniel character would have put you to sleep.” He reached out and touched her arm softly, holding her curious gaze, “But I will rock you all and you will not forget me.”

As Daniel said the words, he panicked in his mind. What on earth was he saying, where did all this come from? This was the total opposite of who he was, of what he liked. How could anyone, especially him, ordinary Daniel Brown, get away with such egotistical behaviour? Surely this girl would laugh him out of the building and call security? But what happened next took him by surprise.

“Really?” She smiled, her eyes widening, “You're that good then? How come I've never heard of you?”

Daniel sat on the edge of the desk, amazed at his own audacity, and leaned in even closer.

“What's your name princess?” he whispered.

She unfolded her arms, studying the eyes behind the mask, her curiosity growing.

“Sindy” she finally answered in a quieter voice.

Daniel held her gaze for a long pause. Now there was no smile on his face, no disinterest, he was focused so intently on her eyes that she felt a little overwhelmed by this smooth stranger in a mask.

“Sindy, once upon a time, there was no Bowie, no Queen and no REM, but someone knew them. Then the world found them and life was never the same again.”

Daniel paused again. He could see the intensity on Sindy's face, the sheer fascination with his words, his style of delivery. This was an artist at work, weaving a spell of enchantment. The gods were with him, the gods were smiling down on Siro. He leaned even closer to the fixated young woman with the lapel badge and the smart suit.

“Sindy, you can be a part of history, you can speak about a defining moment, you can say, “I was there, I saw Siro when he was unleashed.” Watch me fly, girl, just watch me tonight. Trust me, you won't regret it.”

As Daniel spoke the words, he was experiencing something new, a flood of optimism, a surge of self-belief. Could he really be what he was describing? Could Siro be as good as he claimed? Daniel's thoughts became confused, blurred between his senses and his expectations. He seemed to be existing outside of his own mind, convincing himself that this could be real, that Siro could be real. The sound of a man's voice abruptly dislodged him from his inner thoughts.

“Sindy, Andy wants to know if the 8 O'clock slot has arrived yet?” Sindy snapped out of the obvious charm she had been held by and looked round at the source of the voice. For a second she looked back at Daniel, and a flush of embarrassment lit her face. A man with a clipboard and headphones stood at the entrance at the double doors with the light above them. He waited with an anxious look on his face. Sindy looked back at Daniel again. Daniel nodded as if bowing with respect to her and then he held her gaze again. Sindy finally spoke to the man;

“Er yes Shaun. He's here”, she gestured toward Daniel. “This is Siro.”

The man looked Daniel up and down and shrugged. “Nice outfit, who are you, the phantom of the opera? I take it you have a pass?”

Daniel held his pass up for the man but couldn't resist replying to the sarcasm. “I bring theatre to music my man, art for arts sake. Judge me by my music, not my appearance.”

The man hesitated, one hand on his beard, stroking it slowly, the other glancing down at his clipboard. He looked up again at Daniel, considering the strangely garbed, smooth-tongued character in front of him. Daniel found himself feeling anxious, sweating, his heart hammering. He had come too far now to fail, he had become possessed by this spirit, this god. He must perform here tonight, he must publicize Siro.

“Let me guess”, Daniel suddenly cried out loudly, for all gathered in the foyer to hear, “I'm not what you expected. You thought you were going to see some banal social media junkie who thinks he sounds like Ed Sheeran or Justin Bieber. Instead of being home with your loved ones relaxing and listening to rock music, you've been entertained all night long by poor losers imitating the latest rich losers - badly. You're tired, overworked and sick of the repetition and for one, you'd like to hear something new, something original, something that needs saying? Well, my friend, I am Siro and I am here to change things. Now which way do I go?”

As soon as Daniel finished speaking, he held his breath. Would this really work, could people really be persuaded by bluff and bravado, and where was this coming from? If this man was not convinced by his words, the career of Siro was over before it had started.

The man continued to stare at Daniel, but then turned to Sindy. She shrugged and smiled.

“He's right Shaun, what have we got to lose?” she whispered.

The next thing Daniel knew, he felt the man's arm on his shoulder, guiding him down the passage.

“Okay, Siro, your next. I want you to wait outside this door until I give you a signal and then you walk in slowly, take a seat on the couch on the left and wait for Abby to speak to you. Don't chew gum, don't flirt with her, and do not sing a note until she says you can, okay? Do you have a chosen song and do you need to stand?”

Daniel was caught up in the moment, he was a bit overwhelmed, suddenly panicking. It now dawned on him that, in a few moments he would be on television. This was all happening too fast. He wanted to rewind, he hadn't honestly expected this to work, for him to be accepted on the show. How had this happened? Could he actually go through with this charade, this humiliation? But, almost as quickly as the anxiety had set in, he felt a surge of energy, a buzz in his brain. He was not Daniel Brown, they couldn't see his face, no-one knew who he was. He was Siro - Siro would sing, Siro would perform, and the world would judge Siro, not Daniel. And if the world hated him, he would walk away and murder Siro and no-one would ever know about this foolish prank, this unethical yearning for vengeance.

“I don't need other people's songs. I perform solo, my own compositions with my own guitar. Just sit back and enjoy, my man.”

Shaun couldn't decide if this strange bloke was a genuine genius or a self-idolizing nutter but, he thought, “We've had plenty of the latter so, who really cares?”

He stopped outside the double doors and then stepped back. He placed his headphones on his ears and held his palm up towards Daniel. As he did, he whispered something to Daniel;

“You better be as good as you say!”

And then - it happened, in what seemed like a few whirlwind seconds, he was walking toward the TV set and he could make out applause around him and cameras and lights everywhere. As he drew near to the set, he saw the presenter, a face he knew well - Abby Grant. She looked older than he remembered but she had a bright smile and long flowing blonde locks. She gestured for him to sit at the end of the couch. As he took a seat, she began to speak suddenly.

“Welcome to the show er... Siro? Is that right, and tell me why the mask?” She leaned in towards him as she spoke, tilting her head, as if straining to hear him. For a second Daniel froze. He turned to see the lights and the audience and it brought back the inner fears of Daniel. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and then summoned the beast within him.

“We all wear masks Abby, some are just more visible than others. I know you're not the same person when you're away from this studio, so you should understand masks better than most. I am Siro and I have music to play.”

The woman sat upright and turned to the audience.

“And you're also a bit of a philosopher as well Siro. Tell us about yourself and why you think you deserve this opportunity to sing for us tonight.”

Daniel was feeling tense and irritated by the heat, the questions and the lights. His mind was a slight blur and he could hear a thousand thoughts flying around his head at once. Everything seemed to be suddenly moving in slow motion, as if time itself were slowing. He clasped his hands together to try and focus.

“I am Siro. I am the spirit of independence, the spirit of disobedience. I was born in frustration and my music was crafted by anger and despair. I have no past, only a glorious future. I will inspire people tonight.”

Abby again looked at the audience. She could hear the murmerings among them. Daniel couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. But Abby knew that they were confused. She didn't like this upstart muddying her performance and so, decided to ramp it up a bit.

“You sound pretty sure of yourself. Most people are grateful for a chance to sing on TV, my show is an amazing opportunity for them and you.”

Daniel was unimpressed, his mind reeling with thoughts and feelings. He could barely control what was coming out of his mouth now. He sat forward leaning towards the interviewer, staring her down, with no trace of emotion on his face.

“You are just a conduit, a bypass, fortunate enough to land a lucrative job because of your looks and your confidence. You have no real talent, you are faceless. You need people like me to keep your ratings up, you need the help of a god to keep you alive. My music will keep you alive. Other people's talent allows occupations like yours.”

There was silence, for the most part, along with a few whispers and one or two “whoops” and “yeahs.” The interviewer was clearly ruffled by this verbal attack. She shifted in her seat for a few seconds and then forced a smile.

“Bold words, Mr Siro. You obviously have a very high opinion of yourself and a low opinion of those that make musical careers possible for the likes of you. But I think we've heard enough. I think it's time that you graced us mortals with your divine music, and then the audience can see if you're really as great as you think you are, or if your just another delusional wannabe.”

She stood up and motioned over toward the stage.

“Please Siro, sing us a song. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, a musical god - " Siro”

Daniel looked over his shoulder and could see the technician waiting on the stage with his guitar. He got to his feet and walked over and took it. As he did, there was a subdued applause from the crowd but, Daniel knew he, or Siro, had not made a good impression. He began to play, softly at first. But soon he moved to a stronger sound, a hoarse riff on his guitar, with a slightly unsettling sound. He leaned in to the microphone and began his song.

“There was this guy, from a company flying high

And he put me on trial, like some kind of freak

Begging for money, and makin me look weak

He was sittin there, and he was judging me

In his mahogany chair, and telling me

I'm nothing

That man sneered at me with his yes men by his side

And he wiped my name out and stole my pride

Well now he's bankrupt and he's looking for a way back

Wearin different shoes and enslaved to a lot of tax”

At this point Daniel jumped forward and hit hs guitar with impact, producing a deafening sound. As he fingered the strings going into a lengthy lead break which grew in intensity, he felt empowered, energized, invincible. His playing got faster, louder and more overwhelming. He glanced out over the audience but the lights has been lowered and all he could see were shadows. But it didn't matter anymore, this was his moment, he was alone, with Siro and he was channelling tremendous energy and sound. Daniel found his fingers stretching faster and further than they ever had, he was finding notes he had never heard. He reached a crescendo and suddenly launched back into his singing with power in his voice that he had never known was there.

“Well, I won't give a dam, about old Mr power Boss

Cause now I'm the one who's calling all the shots

Let Him eat cake, I don't need him anymore, this is my story

Let him bow down and look up at me in my glory

Cause this is my turn, and I will rock this world

And I will pay it back, cause my flag's unfurled

And I am kicking it while its down

The way it kicked at me when I needed

To hear mercy's sound

Let them eat cake

Let them choke on cake

Because I am fed by the gods"

As Daniel raised his arm to finish the last chord of the song, it reverberated and faded. For a second there was silence but, then the studio suddenly erupted. There was applause and cheering and whistling. People were standing, some were even mock-bowing. Daniel looked up and saw the faces beaming out at him. The noise continued for a few minutes until finally Abby motioned for it to fade.