Natural by Aerial Bard

(Disclaimed: 'Act Naturally', Semisonic)

The room is growing crowded already and you still aren't here. I'm standing alone in front of a table, people are pressed in front of me, eager microphones shoved in front of my face, white noise blurring in my ears, and in the midst of all this chaos the doorway stands empty. My eyes don't leave it, not when the reporters call my name, not when Leonie coughs nervously, signaling that we need to begin soon, with or without you here. It's easy to ignore all of this when my eyes are fixed so steadily on the door, and my mind is set so firmly on you.
It's been so long since I've seen you, but I can still remember exactly how you look, and how you feel when I'm around you. I can even remember the way you act when you feel nervous or trapped, and for a moment it hurts that I can remember that look so vividly. The way your eyes dart around and your hands sweat - how often did I see that on our first tour? And I used to hold you close, until you'd grin and tell me you'd be fine. I'm not asking for that anymore. You don't have to lie and say you're fine for me, or for anyone else. Just hold on a little longer.
Everyone is growing anxious now, most of all me. It's the first time in months that we've held a press conference together, and the journos are dying to catch a glimpse of what Savage Garden looks like together. They all know that it might not be Savage Garden for long, and I think that maybe this time they're right. I just wish I had talked to you about it first. But god, how you want to keep it a secret from everyone, let them think that we we're still going strong, even when you can't stand to sit with me for more than an hour. It's beginning to show Dan, and I don't think I'm the first to notice.
A flash of cameras, the sudden smell of your cologne perforating the room, and you're here. You give a lopsided grin to the reporters and I can't take my eyes off you. The way your suit hangs off your lean body, the pinstripes looking unnaturally white next to your tanned skin, the tie looking a little too much like a noose around your neck. My eyes are the last ones in the room that you meet, and a hurried glance is all you give me before we sit down together.
"You're late," is all I can manage with out sounding overly bitter. Semi-bitter is okay, I guess.
You flash another grin. "Traffic, mate."
I nod and the questions start, each one edging closer and closer to what they really want to ask. I stay away from the whole subject and wonder if I'm protecting you or myself. It's almost claustrophobic, the way the journos crowd around, and for the first time since I was nineteen I wonder if I really want to be a pop star anymore. I thought I'd grown used to not having privacy or personal space anymore, but right now I feel raped of my own emotions. I want to yell and make a scene, but instead I tell another journo about my Star Wars collection and your face stretches a little wider as you pretend to chuckle.
Time is stretching on now, and my muscles are sore and cramping from sitting so long. Or maybe it's just my neck that hurts, from being turned so rigidly away from you. I'm surprised no one has noticed the tension yet, and I can't help but think that it never used to be this thick. Even during our worst fights, there was still that bond between us. And now you've broken that. Or I have. I'm not even sure which one of us had the final word anymore, but the point is we're broken.
"Is Savage Garden going to be releasing another album?" Someone finally asks, and I'm in limbo about whether it's a blessing or if the tightening in my chest is actual pain.
It hangs in the air for a moment, and my eyes are locked on you. "We want to take a break now that we're done touring, but after that we have every intention of coming back and releasing a third album," you say.
Please Daniel, could you mean it? Could you not say that in the same monotone voice that you answer all those questions you've been asked a million times with?
I signal to Leonie, and she tells the journos we need a break. For water, for air, for a smoke, whatever. I need to get out.
You follow me into the hallway and stand there as I collapse against the wall, sliding to the floor and messing up my perfectly styled hair. I almost expect you to comment on it, but you just stand there.
"Well do something," I snap. "There's a water fountain around the corner, hell, I bet you can probably make it outside and halfway down the block before anyone else realizes you're gone."
You stare at me. "You're the one who wanted the break, Dare."
I refuse to think he's talking about our five-minute respite from the microphones. "And that's all I wanted - a break. I didn't bring up doing producing projects or splitting up the band, that was you, Daniel."
You crouch down to my level. "I didn't say any of that Darren, you're twisting my words."
"Yeah, well that doesn't seem to keep them from believing it, or you from going along with it."
I'm almost pleased to see that I've upset you, as you roll your eyes and let out a deep breath. But it doesn't last long, because you're back to being your calm self. "Darren, I haven't gone along with anything. All they've asked is if we're releasing another album, and all I've said is what we agreed on."
I bang my head against the wall and point vaguely in the direction of the room we just left. "Have you seen them out there? They know, Dan, they know. They know we're ripping apart at the seams. Can't you feel it? I feel like they can read me like I'm literally being torn open and exposed. I don't even have to answer their damned questions anymore, they already know exactly what I'm going to say. And worst of all, they've already figured out their own ideas about what I'm 'really' saying."
I feel your hand on my knee, warm and comforting and so much like what I used to know that I want to cry. "They know, Danny," I repeat. "They know about the fighting and the books being thrown against the wall, and how I used to lie when I told Colby I loved her. They know about why I moved to New York and why you never visited me, except for that one time when you came and we didn't leave my bedroom for a week. And they know about the games we used to play with our fans and with the press, and how I used to tease you on-stage. They know about the time you didn't come home one night, and how we used to fight just for the make-up sex. And they know that the fights stopped being about the make-up sex so long ago."
I choke, and my eyes sting. "And all I want is for them to stop knowing. I'll give it all up, Dan, if they could stop knowing everything before I know it myself."
You kiss me softly and I shudder, clenching my eyes tight so no tears can spill down and leave revealing tracks in the make-up they made me wear.
"Darren, they don't know. We've kept it a secret this long, they're not going to find out now." You say resolutely.
"Why now, Dan?" I ask. "Why is now so important? Is it the end, is that why it matters so much to you? Only a few more months and then they won't care if we were fucking or not, because we'll be washed up anyway?"
"We were never fucking, Darren."
I look up at you, glaring, and you break into a grin, "Well, maybe that one time after the show in Sydney. That was probably fucking. But the rest," you curve your hand around to caress the soft spot behind my ear, and my whole body shivers, "we were in love, Dare. Don't say that didn't mean anything to you."
I hate the past tense that you use.
"It meant everything to me," I whisper. "And I thought it meant everything to you."
"Darren," you frown and look so much like my mother when she caught me doing something she disapproved of that I almost smile. Almost. "Don't start this again, please. It's over."
So easily put. Just three words and you have dissipated our love as if it meant nothing to you. And I think my heart has just dropped through the gaping hole in my stomach.
You glance at your watch and stand up, "We've gotta go back in," you say, offering your hand to help me get up. "Just act naturally, Dare. We'll get through it."
I nod, sniffling and blinking back any traces of my tears. "Yeah, I can do that."

Act naturally
Just be you, beautiful
Just be you, casual
I'll be me before the fall
You be you before this all came down