by Lane Hayes
He launched forward with his fist cocked. I raised mine too and braced for impact. I had nowhere to go and an instrument to protect. Justin stepped between us with his arms spread and his teeth bared.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two? If we weren’t going on in a minute, I swear to God, I’d kick you both in the nuts. Kiss and make up now. We’ve got a show to do, assholes,” Justin growled.
Tegan and I glared at each other while Justin and Johnny cast wary glances between us. The air was thick with a weird combination of anger and confusion. Naturally, that was when the club manager appeared to give us the green light.
“You’re on.”
“Cool. We’re ready. Right, guys?” Justin replied, fixing us with a stern look.
Tegan tapped his sticks and inclined his head. “Let’s do this.”
He led the way to the stage. Johnny followed. Justin grabbed my elbow before I could do the same.
“Hey, whatever it is, let it go. Or better yet, use it onstage. Don’t hold on to that shit. It’ll mess you up. C’mon.” Justin flashed a mischievous grin and clapped. “It’s show time.”
I gave him a curt nod, then headed down a short hallway and walked onstage. An immediate rush of energy enveloped me in a haze of bright lights and raucous cheering. I felt an instant sense of belonging. Like for the first time in my life, I was part of something that mattered.
The audience chanted my name when I plugged in and joined Tegan, who was already setting a beat for Johnny to do his thing. Tap, tap, boom, tap, tap, boom…Johnny angled his Stratocaster, closed his eyes, and let his fingers fly as he wove a melody Zero’s biggest fans would recognize two chords in. The fresh wave of wolf whistles and catcalls indicated they knew the song well. And when Justin stepped onstage and took his place at the mic, the crowd went wild.
I stood to his right and watched with amusement as our fearless leader worked his magic. Justin liked to think of himself as a songwriter first. And yeah, he was damn good at weaving words and building lyrical stories, but he was a talented performer too. He’d become an expert at reading an audience and manipulating moods. He could make them laugh or cry, or feel bursts of anger, pride, and solidarity. The kind of emotions that sparked a sense of personal empowerment and validation. You couldn’t pay enough money to be part of that kind of experience.
But Zero wasn’t the Justin show. We all played a role. And mine was to support the harmony. I played rhythm with Tegan, but my real job was to set the pulse that created the mood. Justin was right. I could use my anger to fuel my intensity in a performance. It was the ultimate safe space because no one onstage with me would let me drown in negative emotion. Least of all, Tegan. He met me beat for beat, catching up with me and pulling me in until we found ourselves again.
Justin swayed at the mic halfway through the show and grinned at me before turning to the audience. “My friend Ky here is a crazy motherfucker. Cool as a cucumber one second and a hotheaded SOB the next. You should have seen him backstage making trouble earlier.”
I shared a look with Johnny and Tegan before looking out into the audience. And in a sea of smiling, sweaty, happy fans, I spotted Charlie. He stood to the left by the bar and raised his glass in a toast. And somehow, it all came together for me. The music, the mood, the four of us onstage, and the five hundred people dancing and singing along to our songs. I was in complete synchrony with the moment. I wasn’t an observer hiding behind an instrument. I was an integral part of history in the making.
Don’t ask me how or why, but I had the craziest feeling Charlie was the key. He was the least mellow, calming force I knew, yet somehow he grounded me.
I grinned at him as I moved to the microphone and pulled it off the stand, shaking my head at Justin in mock dismay before addressing the crowd. “Come on now. Who do you think is the real troublemaker here? Me or…” I hitched my thumb at Justin.
Justin’s shit-eating grin grew to epic proportion when the crowd chanted his name. “Justin, Justin, Justin…”
He took the mic from my hand and shooed me away before launching into one of our newer songs, “Trouble.”
You’re gonna tear me apart and put me together again
You’re gonna lead me into trouble, but can you save me when I fall…’cause I’m falling
The impromptu moment probably seemed like a setup, but it wasn’t. It was chemistry at its finest. Balance restored. Harmony reset. Tegan smacked my shoulder and gave me a fist bump after the final encore. No words required.
We ended the show on a serious high. It only seemed right to celebrate, but I wasn’t going to do it hanging out at the bar after the show. I had other things on my mind.
I towel-dried my damp hair, then yanked my sweaty T-shirt over my head and reached for a clean one just as Charlie walked in. He held my gaze before congratulating us on what he thought was our best show ever.
“They’re still calling your names out there. Drinks and food are on the house. Oh, and there’s a basketball person who wants to meet you, a contestant from The Bachelor, and a Kardashian. Don’t ask me which one. I couldn’t get a good look in the dark. Whatever you do, don’t disappear. There are a couple of critics out there too. We could use the positive press.”
“Where do you think we’re goin’, Char? We’re all gonna soak up the love. Is Gray at the bar?” Justin asked, pulling his damp T-shirt over his head.
I listened to their exchange as I gathered my belongings, zipped my duffel bag and tried to ignore that my pulse hadn’t slowed. I thought I was pretty good at blocking out sensory overload, but I didn’t want to miss anything Charlie said. I felt an almost magnetic pull to be close to him, which was odd because he was talking about shit I had zero interest in, like A-list celebrities, tequila shots, and some music critic who’d given us a bad review.
The rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins didn’t help. It made me feel invincible and horny at the same time. I didn’t trust that I could keep my hands to myself ’cause the urge to go caveman on him was strong. I wanted to cage him against the wall, pull his hands over his head and shove my tongue down his throat. I wanted him to beg me to fuck him and—
Charlie looked my way just then, and somehow I knew we were both thinking the same thing.
I picked up my guitar case, gave a quick wave, and pushed open the back door leading to the parking lot. I typed him a quick message, then hurried to my truck on the far end of the lot facing a wall covered in ivy. I tossed my things into the cab behind the driver’s seat, hopped behind the wheel, and revved the engine. I checked my phone to see if he’d replied just as a new “Where the fuck did you go?” text from Tegan lit my screen. I thought about how to respond to that one when someone opened the passenger-side door and jumped inside.
“I’m here,” Charlie announced, slamming the door.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He twisted in his seat to face me and smiled. “My cardio game isn’t what it should be, so give me a second to catch my breath and—”
“C’mere.” I hooked my finger at him and cupped his neck before crashing my mouth over his.
All the pent-up energy I’d been holding inside came pouring out of me like a sieve. I tilted my head to deepen the kiss and slipped my tongue between his lips, groaning when he wrapped his arms over my shoulders and met me halfway. He sighed into the connection, licking my jaw and nibbling my chin before letting me take over again. I pulled back slightly for air and rested my forehead on his.
“Wow,” he said in a breathy voice. “I feel so…”
“Hmm?” I brushed my stubbled chin over his smooth-shaven cheek and kissed his nose. “How do you feel?”
“Lucky to be with you.”
I widened my eyes in surprise. I didn’t expect that. “Me too. Um…we have to get out of here before they come looking for us. Where do you want to go?”
“We can go to your place or mine. Just head down Wilshire. Maybe we’ll find something romantic to do on the way.”
<
br /> I tugged a wayward curl playfully and grinned before putting the truck in reverse. “You’re a weirdo. I can’t tell if you’re punkin’ me or not.”
“I’m not. I’m a hopeless romantic having a moment after consuming a ridiculous amount of french fries and two gin and tonics.” Charlie fastened his seat belt, then twisted to face me.
“So you’re buzzed.”
“I’m high on life. That show was amazing tonight. I can’t believe anyone could ever question Zero’s chemistry. It’s off the charts. Musically and personally you’re just…sublime. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I know what I’m talking about. Oh—turn left here,” he directed, gesturing wildly.
“Who says we’re not sublime?”
“Nelson fucking Cormer. He’s the guy who tried to compare Zero to an ’80s hair band.”
I let out an amused half laugh. “Oh yeah, I remember. Sounds like something my dad would say.”
“Well, he’s wrong and he’d better back the hell up and get ready to eat crow. I bet he was there tonight. I wonder what he’ll say.” He tapped his forefinger on his chin. “Probably something annoying.”
“Probably. Why don’t you introduce yourself and unleash some Charlie charm on him?”
“I’m not sure who he is exactly. I thought he was the tall skinny guy I’ve seen at a few shows. He was there tonight. He looks uncomfortable and crabby every time, but he keeps showing up. He says he’s not Nelson, but I think he’s lying.”
“Why would he lie? Seems pointless,” I said, slowing behind an old Camry blaring a rap song so loud my truck vibrated.
“Who knows? People lie all the time about stupid stuff. Maybe he knows who I am and doesn’t want to talk to me,” he huffed.
“Now who would do that?” I chuckled.
“Right?”
I reached over to caress his cheek when the urge to touch him became too strong to resist. “You’re gonna get as much shit as I am for bailing early, you know. Justin is probably pissed.”
“I doubt it. He loves mingling with the crowd. He doesn’t need me there to babysit.”
“Yeah, but what about schmoozing the labels?”
“I think we’re done with that.”
I squinted against the glare of neon lights as I came to a stop at a red light. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I think we should do it ourselves…like you suggested.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You said I should go for it and I’m—oh! Stop here.”
“What? Where?” I slammed on the brakes in a panic and raised my hand in apology to the car behind me before pulling to the curb.
“Park your truck anywhere.” He tapped at the window and grinned at me. “That’s romantic!”
“There’s nothing here and I’m not getting a ticket for loitering, so—Charlie, what are you doing?”
He opened the passenger door and hopped out. “Go park across the street where it’s residential. I’ll be waiting for you here.”
I banged my head on the steering wheel, then shook it for good measure. “We should be back at the club partying like rock stars or at one of our places fucking like bunnies. Everything’s closed, Char. There’s nothing to see but those lampposts and we can see those from here. Get in the truck. Let’s go.”
“Meet me in the middle,” he said with a grin before spinning away dramatically and skipping toward the cluster of lampposts to the left of the county museum.
I stared after him in true “what the fuck?” fashion. Thirty minutes ago I’d been onstage, rocking out to an enthusiastic mob of Zero fans in what was arguably our best show ever. How did I end up alone in my crappy old truck with traffic whizzing by me on Wilshire Boulevard? I didn’t know this neighborhood, but I knew better than to walk around by myself anywhere in LA. Obviously Charlie didn’t.
I gritted my teeth and kept an eye out for a break in the traffic before cranking my wheel, then punching the gas to turn down the side street in front of the museum. I parked illegally in front of a chained-off public parking lot, locked up, and ran to the curb, craning my neck to look for him. There was no way to cross Wilshire without becoming roadkill, so I waited impatiently for the light to change before running to the opposite side of the street toward the iconic lampposts.
The permanent art exhibit had been part of the landscape for over a decade, but I’d never actually been here. And I wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to enjoy it…until I found Charlie standing in the middle of the sea of old lampposts with his arms open wide and a huge smile on his beautiful face.
“You found me.”
“Yeah, I found you,” I growled.
And I wanted to fuckin’ strangle him. I moved toward him purposefully, composing a parental-sounding speech about safety, responsibility…and other stuff I had no business lecturing anyone about. But as I closed the distance between us, my angst faded and all I wanted to do was hold him.
I swooped Charlie in my arms and squeezed him tight, breathing him in, then burrowing my face in his neck before spinning him in a circle. If possible, his smile was even bigger when I finally set him down.
“Wow. You are romantic,” he sighed dreamily.
“I am not romantic, I’m pissed at you, you little asshole. I should smack your ass for the trick you just pulled.” I pointed my forefinger at his chest and furrowed my brow as I blasted him.
“And kinky too. Yes, please. You should definitely spank me, Ky.”
I released a beleaguered sigh and stuffed my hands into my pockets. “You’re nuts. What are you up to, Char?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to show you this place. Have you been?”
“Not this close, but I’ve driven by it.”
“It’s Hollywood dreamy. Old and new. These lampposts are almost one hundred years old. They lit these streets where the biggest names in show business lived and worked and brought joy to the masses. Cary Grant, Gene Kelly, Rock Hudson, Marilyn Monroe, James Dean, and lots more. I wanted to be like them when I was growing up,” he said wistfully.
“A dead movie star?”
Charlie rolled his eyes as he slipped his hand in mine and pulled me along the pathway. “Not the dead part. But I wanted to be a star. I just didn’t have any talent. Like none at all. I can’t sing or dance or act. I think I’m hysterical, but no one else does and I might be cute, but not hot. Oh yeah, and I’m short. Don’t get me wrong, I have amazing potential. But I’ll never be who I thought I’d be. It’s hard for normal guys like me.”
“There’s nothing normal about you,” I deadpanned.
“The point is, sometimes we have to try ten careers before we find a fit. Tonight I think I found it.”
Charlie flashed a winning smile, then let go of my hand and moved in front of me with his arms spread. The backdrop of two hundred lampposts in the middle of the night on a deserted patch of cement in LA was stunning. He was stunning. And he was right. Maybe it was a little romantic too.
“Here?”
He chuckled. “Maybe. But I’m talking about the show. I was standing next to that old guy I’m sure is Nasty Nelson, wondering how to counter his “one-trick pony” comment without slugging him when you took over up there and…fuck, I was proud of you. I was proud of all of you, but maybe you especially and—”
“Why?” I cocked my head curiously. “I didn’t do anything special.”
“Yes, you did. You shined up there. You played like a boss and radiated confidence and beauty and…you all clicked. The whole band clicked. You looked like the real deal. And I had this epiphany that not only were you destined for greatness, but that I’m the one who’ll get you there. I know I’ve been saying that for months, but sometimes I talk just to hear the sound of my voice. This time…I know I’m right and I know how to do it.”
“You’re going to create a label.”
“Not just me. Zero. I’ll take care of the business part and you guys will keep doing your things, but we’ll control the vision together. And we
can expand it to include other artists. We don’t have to look for the perfect fit, we can create it.”
“I play the bass, Charlie. And I can do tricks on a skateboard. I’m all for it, but I don’t know shit about starting a label,” I said. “None of us do.”
“Zero is the creative force. The vision. I’m the ‘behind the scenes’ guy. Like I am now, but see…I realized I’ve been playing it too safe. I want to take a chance. Other than distribution channels, we have everything we need to start, so it’s not a huge chance, but if we do it well, we can bring on other artists, cross-promote and build a brand.” He gestured excitedly, then set his hands on his hips. “Better yet…we can build an empire!”
“And that’s your dream?”
I moved toward him and pushed his curls from his forehead when a gust of wind blew through the forest of lanterns. It was a good thing we’d both remembered our jackets. It was cold out here.
“It’s not my original dream, but I think this one has potential. My dad always says that if you can dream it, you can do it. The most important ingredient is believing in yourself. Not just going through the motions, but really believing in your purpose. Tonight…I believe in Zero and I believe in you.”
That threw me off guard. Maybe he meant those last few words in a generic context as part of his impassioned speech, but he got me. I felt oddly vulnerable. Which was funny ’cause I towered over Charlie. On the surface, I was bigger, stronger, and my cool quotient traveled in broader circles than his. But truthfully, he was so much more than I could ever be. The surge of longing, admiration, and affection caught me by the throat, but I couldn’t just stand here staring at him like an idiot. I had to say something.
