Chapter Text
August 2011, Studio Bellini
Lake Como, Italy
I gazed at the letter in my hand. It had been sitting on my desk all day since it had been delivered earlier by the tiny little Italian mailman who never seemed to get my name correct. The closest he had come to was Matteo, but I didn’t mind. We wouldn’t be at Studio Bellini much longer, just until the end of August. Then we would head off in separate directions; Chris back to London, Dom to our house in California. I planned to stop in Teignmouth to see my mum before flying back to L. A to join Dom. I had offered for him to come with me, but he seemed anxious about returning to the States. Going home–Teignmouth–was bittersweet for him. It was where we had met, formed the band, had fallen in love, but it had also been where he had been hurt. It had taken him a long time to heal, to speak freely about his trauma, but he had pulled through, becoming stronger each day. I was so proud of him and how far he had gotten. Of course, some days were better than others; some days he would struggle, but we learned to get through those days together.
Back to the letter, I ran my fingers lightly over the return address:
The Recording Academy
3030 Olympic Boulevard
Santa Monica, California.
The headquarters for the Grammy Awards. This was important. A big deal. Something we had been dreaming about since we started the band all those years ago. The road to here hadn’t been easy, navigating the ups and downs of the music world. Playing gigs to almost no one, dragging equipment through rain and mud to the stage because we couldn’t afford a gig crew, going through the dread of not knowing when the next paycheck will come, all the wanting and wishing and hoping after a gig that someone somewhere would have noticed us. Of course, we had moments of celebration as well; headlining Glastonbury, world tours, playing Wembley Stadium and hitting the top ten charts. All of those moments had been stepping stones to here, to this little letter in my hand. I knew I should wait for us to be together to open it, but I could feel my chest trembling with anticipation. It was The Grammys.
Chris was out with his family, enjoying the lake, and Dom was….where? I looked out the window, searching for him, and finally spotted him on the dock. It was hard to miss that blonde hair. Quickly, I grabbed the letter and pulled on my shoes, double-checking to ensure I had the key before heading down to the dock. Last week there had been an invasion of centipedes, and the three of us had run out so quickly that no one grabbed the key. We had to wait for the old locksmith from downtown to let us back in. Chris had run out in such a panic he forgot his pants. Dom laughed so hard he cried, then Chris did the mature thing and pushed him into the lake. What was it with us and bugs anyway?
“I thought I would find you here,” I said softly as I approached Dom and then winced as he startled, but he turned his head up, blocking the sun with his hand. His notebook was resting in his lap, and colored pencils sat neatly in a tin box on his left.
“Oh, hey Matt,” he said and then smiled.
“Is it alright if I sit with you?” I asked.
Dom grinned. Oh, love, you never knew how much that smile could make someone feel. “Of course, you know I always enjoy your company,” he said, then patting the spot on the dock next to him.
“That’s really good,” I commented, nodding to the sketch of the lake he had been working on.
“Thanks. Just doodles, really,” Dom leaned back casually, and I was taken away by how perfect he was. “It’s beautiful. Sometimes I still can’t believe that we live here. Have a studio here. Making music…” Dom said thoughtfully, trailing off as he looked over the water. I waited a minute, giving him space to say more if he wanted to, but he stayed quiet.
“We’ll come back. We always do,” I whispered after a few more beats of silence. We sat together. The only sound was the quiet whisper of the wind across the lake.
“When we were in school….” Dom started but paused. I took his hand, gently nudging him to continue as he gathered his thoughts, “did you ever think we would make it to here?” he asked, looking up at me.
“Remember that night after practice we walked home together, and I spoke about the balloons? I think I knew then that we were destined for greatness. I never doubted us for a second,” I answered, smiling fondly at the memory of that night.
“But you didn’t realize it would be just Chris and me blowing up those balloons for the first dozen gigs. They would take forever. Remember when Chris nearly passed out?” Dom chuckled. He lightly traced circles on the top of my hand then I saw his smile falter. There were still moments like this when his smile would fade, his eyes cast down to the floor, and that’s when I knew he was struggling. Finally, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
“You alright?”
He nodded, quietly resting his head on my shoulder.
“What are you thinking about, love?” I prompted softly.
He exhaled, “Just things….” I felt his hand squeeze mine as he inhaled another breath. “I’m happy…that I’m still here with the band. With you,” Dom whispered. I knew he wasn’t just talking about being here at Lake Como; it was deeper than that. “You found me… I was so lost …,” he trailed off again, exhaling slowly.
“You’re so strong, Dom. I’m proud of you for getting this far,”
I brought his hand up to my lips, kissing it gently. He smiled, and stretched his leg out, toes dipping in the cool, clear water.
“There aren’t any loons out tonight. I was hoping to see one before it became too dark…” Dom brushed his face with his free hand staring off across the lake's calm water.
“Want me to call them? I’m quite good at bird calls, you know,” I replied, and then Dom smiled, making my heart melt all over again.
“OOoooooiiiiOOOOEEEEEEeeeeee,” I called and then started laughing. Dom’s smile broadened, and he looked at me, his eyes shining brightly in the glowing sunset. He sniffed, then brushed his face again with his free arm. I wrapped my arm around Dom, hand resting lightly on his hip, and for a split second, I felt him tense up. I readjusted, touching the dock, feeling the warm wood beneath my fingers.
“No, it’s alright. I like your hand there,” Dom whispered, putting his notebook down and touching my hand.
“Are you sure, love?” I asked
He nodded, then gently moved my hand to where it had been, placing it on the soft spot above his hip. He leaned against me, his blonde hair brushing against my face. We sat there together silently, taking in the view of the lake and enjoying being in each other’s company. I felt warm lips against my neck, sending a tingling sensation down my body. I turned to him, our noses touching. His eyes lit up as they bounced back and forth between mine. The last golden rays of the sunset reflected off them. I smiled, suddenly wishing that this moment could last forever.
“Hey, we got something in the mail today,” I whispered into his ear, “A letter from the Recording Academy in Santa Monica, California,”
Dom sat up straighter, eyes suddenly full of excitement. “Really?”
I nodded and shifted to pull the letter out of my pocket. “3030 Olympic boulevard, headquarters of—,”
“The Grammys? We finally heard back from them? But Paul said we wouldn’t–”
“Paul’s a wanker. It came today, Dom. Look, right here. See?” I said, pointing to the return address.
Dom took the letter, trembling fingers running over the fine print.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Chris?”
“Wait for what?” a voice said, making us both jump. I turned around to see Chris standing behind us, face burnt red from sailing around in the lake with his kids all day. “I saw you two sitting out here from the window. There aren’t any more centipedes, are there?” he asked, looking around the dock.
I laughed, “No, no. I was telling Dom. We got this letter from the Recording Academy today–,”
“The one in Santa Monica?”
“No. the one in Belarus,” I scoffed.
“Matt. Be serious. Let me see?” Chris asked, and then he sat down next to Dom, holding his hand for the letter. Dom handed it to him.
“Well, should we open it?”
“You do it,”
“No, I can’t. You do it.”
“Chris…”
“Fine.”
Chris took the letter and opened it with shaking hands. I watched closely, holding Dom’s hand tightly in mine. Chris scanned it quickly, his eyes flitting back and forth as he read.
“We’ve been nominated for a Grammy.”
“No shit,”
“It says it right here. Listen: On behalf of the National Academy of Recording, we congratulate you on your nomination for Best Rock Album,” Chris read out loud, and then he broke out into laughter, his voice echoing joyfully across the lake.
“I can’t believe we did it,” Chris laughed, then stretched out his arm, pulling the two of us into a one-armed embrace. Dom, stuck in the middle, giggled, still holding the letter with his free hand. The sun reflected off the lake, casting bright beams across his face as he smiled. Dom exhaled, then rested his head on Chris’s shoulders, closing his eyes but smiling. I felt a sense of joy wash over me. There had been a time not too long ago when Dom wouldn’t let anyone near him, and he had overcome that. He had come so far since that day in the hallway at school. We have come so far since then. Together. No matter what darkness Dom had been dragged through, he never lost sight of his brilliance. We never lost sight of his brilliance. We would continue to move forward together because we knew that we were strong enough, brave enough to overcome any obstacle in our way. We had journeyed through it all and made it here, to this moment, sitting on the water of Lake Como. Nobody else but the three of us. We were a guiding light to the lost and forgotten.
Simply, we were Muse.