Nobody Knows (Razes Hell Book 1)

by Kyra Lennon

  He took my hand to help me onto the stage and I stood awkwardly beside him while he addressed the crowd. A sea of expectant rock fanatics stared up at me.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “When the lights go out, you won’t see them.”

  As the beat kicked in, I reminded myself to breathe and lose myself in the melody. Not easy to do when my heart hammered louder than the music.

  We only had one microphone between us and as I waited to sing I stepped left and right - in a less funky version of The Carlton.

  I made the fatal mistake of looking out at the audience again. The lights didn’t make them completely disappear, and in my nervousness, it appeared as though they were grinning up at me, faces resembling clown masks, ready to mock me when I failed.

  Nerves took hold of me half way through the first line. Sickness clawed at my throat, choking me so the lyrics died in my mouth. The pressure, the lights; so much focus on me when I didn’t belong on the stage, didn’t belong in this crazy world of rock ‘n’ roll. The people below blurred and I blinked to clear my vision. No change; in fact, the masses swirled before me, my knees weakened and I ran off the stage and bolted to the backstage area before my legs gave out completely. Breathing hard, I barricaded myself against the dressing room door.

  Nope. Sixteen years is not long enough to conquer my stage fright.

  I had no clue how Drew and Jason had the courage to put themselves up for potential ridicule for a living. Once, I overheard some people openly mock my work at a gallery and their words depressed me for weeks. I sure as hell couldn’t handle harsh criticism every day of my life. Being on stage made me feel exposed, as if my less-than-skinny figure was an invitation for people to criticise, and even a single out-of-place hair would lead to trash talk. I wasn’t particularly insecure about my appearance, but as someone who spent large amounts of time rocking a onesie while working on my next masterpiece, I couldn’t cope with a job that put me in front of a live - often judgemental - audience.

  I waited in the dressing room, jumping up and down to rid myself of tension until the boys filed in. The sound of the crowd indicated they hadn’t been bothered by my freak out, but Jason pulled me into a tight hug the second he walked through the door.

  Being crushed against a sweaty rock star didn’t ease my annoyance. Well, not this rock star. I wanted Drew’s comfort, his safety. His arms had been my safe place countless times; I never minded being crushed against him when he was sweaty after a show.

  “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, Ellie. I was only having a bit of fun.”

  Typical Jason. Act first, think later.

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen, I thought-”

  “No.” I untangled myself from his arms. “You didn’t think at all.”

  “Let me make it up to you.” He cocked his eyebrow.

  “Don’t. You look like a deranged Bond villain.”

  “How else am I supposed to get you to forgive me?”

  He didn’t let up, and annoyance turned to laughter as he dragged me into another hug. Jason was hard to stay angry with, and that was saying something since he’d pushed and broken the boundaries more times than I cared to remember. As I released myself from his arms for a second time, I looked around for Drew. He sat clutching a bottle of water; a dark cloud had descended around him again. I recognised the expression of pent up rage on his face, but knew better than to ask. He’d calm down in his own time, though how long it would be... well, that was anyone’s guess.

  I sang to myself as I danced around my hotel room dressed only in a towel. The band always did something after a show; sometimes clubbing, sometimes a few drinks at the venue, and sometimes they gathered in one of their hotel rooms for a couple of beers. It was their way of winding down. Often, if I was with them, Drew skipped the partying and hung out with me. Like me, he had little interest in nightlife. For a break from the norm, I decided to join the guys at a club, and in spite of his mood, Drew agreed to come along too. Maybe several hours spent having fun would snap him out of his funk.

  I pulled my chosen outfit for the evening from my suitcase; a short black skirt, and a black and white stripy top. Although I didn’t often go out after gigs, I always packed suitable eveningwear just in case. An insecure person would have worried that wearing stripes when you’re not built like a stick insect might be a mistake, but life’s too short to live on salads when there’s a whole world of chocolate to be eaten.

  I ran a brush through my freshly dried hair and swung it over my shoulder, holding it in place with a hair tie. After applying some subtle make-up, I was all set. I grabbed my handbag and key card then headed towards Jason’s hotel room. Our rooms were only a couple of doors apart and the sound of raised voices halted me.

  I hadn’t heard Jason and Drew argue in ages and my heart sank. Instead of letting them continue, I reached up to knock on the door to make them stop, but as I lifted my hand, Drew said, “This isn’t only about us, though! Fighting between ourselves is one thing, but dragging other people into this crap is not okay.”

  “It wouldn’t be forever. People will forget eventually and it won’t matter who was involved.”

  “It matters now! For Christ’s sake, we didn’t start the band to make headlines on the front of crappy fucking tabloids! We started the band to make music.”

  “Without the headlines, people wouldn’t know who we are.”

  “I’d rather be unknown and happy than famous and pissed off!”

  “We should at least ask.”

  “No. It’s not fair.”

  Whatever “it” was and who they needed to ask, I didn’t like the sound of it. I rapped my knuckles against the door, shoving the argument out of my head, and Jason answered.

  “Hi,” he said with a smile. If I hadn’t overheard them, I’d never have suspected they’d been yelling at each other.

  Drew appeared behind his brother, and I said, “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  Two hours later, I sat at a table on the club’s second floor, watching as Jason wound himself around some random blonde on the dance floor – his argument with Drew obviously long forgotten. The girl couldn’t have been much older than eighteen but Jason didn’t seem too worried about that. He gave her a flash of his smile and leaned down to kiss her.

  Funny. When I was her age, I was the one wrapped in his arms, kissing him. For a while, every time he visited me at uni, we finished the nights drunk and locked together at the lips. Because we’d grown up side by side, I thought we’d live the rest of our lives that way. Growing up, growing old together. Through my teen years, Jason was the guy of my dreams and those visits from him ending with a clumsy fumble on my bed meant everything to me. But he had other girls. Girls willing to sleep with him without any kind of commitment and I wasn’t prepared to be one of them. I certainly had no intention of sharing him.

  Then I met my first real love. Bang. Suddenly, everything I felt for Jason became clear. He was nothing more than a childish infatuation.

  “Here you go.” Drew disrupted my thoughts and handed me a white wine spritzer. As his fingers brushed mine, a spark shot through me.

  “Thanks.”

  I hoped he didn’t notice me awkwardly shuffle my stool away from his so I wouldn’t spend all night jolting like I was being tasered every time he got too close.

  Drew nodded his head towards the dance floor. “My brother has no self-control.”

  “Not true. He’s still in the club. He hasn’t whisked her away to his hotel room yet. I think he’s showing amazing restraint.”

  “He hasn’t had a girlfriend in a while. He must be getting desperate.”

  “Desperate? Look at her, she’s gorgeous! Are you telling me you wouldn’t have been interested if she threw herself at you?”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I realised I didn’t need to ask.

  “She’s too young, too blonde, and I never hook up with random girls.”

  J
ust as well, really. I had to get over the bizarre glitch in my feelings that caused me to look at Drew in a whole new light before I could deal with him having a woman in his life. The sharp twinge hit me again. A painful clue this wasn’t a glitch, and another harsh reminder I’d already been friend-zoned with no hope of release.

  “Anyway,” he went on, unaware of my discomfort, “I hardly think I’ll meet the love of my life at a nightclub. Most of the girls here are only after one thing.”

  “You are the only man I’ve ever met who makes casual sex sound bad.”

  Drew slowly rotated his beer bottle in his hands, and I understood the reason for his silence. Just because he was happy to put on an incredible show with the band, didn’t mean he would take advantage of the groupies. Drew didn’t believe he had groupies; didn’t think he could attract anyone, let alone have the confidence to indulge in meaningless sex with a stranger. His self-belief had been knocked out of him by his ex-girlfriend, Lisa. Lisa was a two-faced, self-involved wench, and for unknown reasons, she hated me on first sight. I figured she resented that I’d been in Drew’s life for so much longer than she had. My theory went out the window the first time she showed her true colours. She used Drew’s size as a way to cut him down, making digs about his weight then laughing it off but her malice was clear to me. Drew was over six feet tall with broad shoulders, of course, he wasn’t skinny, but certainly not fat. Even if he was, her snide remarks still wouldn’t have been okay. The mere memory of the way she treated him made me want to seek her out and smack her in the teeth.

  “Well, what about you? I don’t see you down there getting groped by some random bloke.”

  My attention returned to Drew. “I’m not that kind of girl and you know it.”

  His eyes darkened. “You didn’t have a problem with Jason groping you earlier.”

  Groping? When did...? Oh, do hugs count as groping now?

  The way Drew looked at me over the top of his bottle, you’d think I spent my whole life whoring myself out to the nearest available male. In reality, Drew, Jason and the rest of the band were the only men I ever hung out with.

  “First of all, Jason’s not a stranger. And second, I don’t recall any groping.” When Drew only shrugged in response, I continued, “Is there something you want to talk about?”

  “I’m fine.” Drew swallowed down a large gulp of his beer. “Fine.”

  Even before I heard him arguing with Jason earlier I knew he wasn’t fine. He hadn’t been happy for a while, but that was no excuse for making me sound like a tramp for hugging someone I’d known forever. Lashing out was his least attractive quality, and thankfully, a side he didn’t show too often. It stung that he used his defences with me, especially over something so stupid. Why would he care who “groped” me anyway? He didn’t want to grope me.

  Probably. But there was the time...

  Stop. Now. We’re not going over the three or four hundred times you thought he might have given you a second look, or maybe held onto you a bit too long after a hug. We’re not, because you’re friends. Just friends.

  “Ells? I didn’t mean to... I’m sorry. This thing with Jason. You were right. It’s a bad idea. I don’t want to fall out with you because of it, though.”

  I sighed. “I wish you would talk to me. Or to anyone.”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  Not when you’ve spent your life building up a complex set of barriers to keep people out. He’d handed me the keys to open some of his doors, but I hadn’t gotten close to unlocking them all. Most people eventually reached a point when they had to talk. Not Drew. He let everything pile on top of him, crushing him. Every day I was amazed he hadn’t suffocated under the weight.

  “I know, but I hate seeing you like this. All mopey.”

  He cracked a smile then placed his bottle on the table and took a deep breath. “So take my mind off my... mopey-ness. If you’re not keen on dancing with strangers, how about dancing with your oldest friend?”

  I grinned. “Old being the operative word.”

  “Oh, ha ha.” Drew took my glass out of my hand and placed it beside his empty beer bottle. “Come on, let’s hit the dance floor and pretend we’re enjoying ourselves!”

  After a while, Drew loosened up, and his sour mood vanished. The heat from the flashing lights and all the thrashing bodies squished together on the dance floor caused my need for a little solitude to rush to the surface, and after an hour crammed against (mostly) strangers, I gestured to Drew that I was going to get a drink

  “Did you see him? Did you see my brother on the telly? Fucking… Oof!”

  What. The. Hell?

  Jason swayed precariously on the bar, right in front of the barman who’d served him his last drink. Mid-way through whatever he was babbling on about, he’d slipped, tried to catch himself by grabbing an innocent bystander, and pulled the guy down with him as he fell to the floor.

  “Get him out of here,” the barman said. “Now.”

  Post-gig celebrations always seemed like such a brilliant idea at the time.

  While Jason struggled to get up most people around him began to shuffle away from the crazy drunk man. Some of the crowd obviously recognised him because they were taking photos of him, ready to post on Twitter so the world could witness the latest drama as it unfolded.

  Drew took hold of Jason’s arm and pulled him up.

  “What is wrong with you?” he snapped. “Act your age.”

  Jason’s head wobbled in a comical way, like one of those nodding dogs people put in the back window of their cars. “I’m twenty-eight, not ninety-eight. Lighten the fuck up, will you?” He thrust his beer bottle at Drew’s chest, spilling some on his shirt. “Here, have a drink.”

  Derek had said the boys weren’t to converse in public, but I assumed fighting wasn’t covered in that rule. I had only a split second to act before Drew lost it, and the incident became front page news. Just because Derek wanted “explosive behaviour” didn’t mean I had to let any more erupt. In fact, I was hell bent on extinguishing whatever I could and if Drew stayed where he was, the first real band skirmish would be on the Internet in seconds.

  I grabbed his wrist. “Let me deal with him.”

  “I need to get him out of here,” Drew snapped, shrugging me away. “Look at the state of him.”

  Jason chuckled, swaying unsteadily. “I’m fine. Fine and dandy.”

  “When you start talking like a bad country singer, you’re not fine. Or dandy.” I glanced around for Mack or Joey as the music seemed to grow louder and the lights appeared brighter. Excited clubbers could hardly believe their luck, and they were so close I heard the camera clicks from their mobile phones above the music. My palms were slick with sweat and my heart raced.

  Thankfully, Mack spotted the commotion and weaved through the revellers towards us. “Everything okay?”

  Drew opened his mouth to answer but I held my hand up, hoping the action would be enough to stop the outpour of rage threatening to spill from his lips. Anger radiated from him; toxic and a little intimidating but this was not the time for him to explode. Not in front of gossip-hungry witnesses.

  “Mack, do me a favour and put Jason in a cab. And call Derek, he needs to know about this. Drew, come with me.”

  I didn’t give either of them a chance to argue. I pulled Drew as far away from the scene as possible.

  “What are you doing?” He fixed me with a death stare. “I need to make sure he gets back to the hotel.”

  “Why? Why do you need to?”

  “Because if I don’t he’ll end up under a bus, Ellie!”

  Instead of answering right away, I waited, watching him. My calmness set his teeth on edge, it always did. For several intense seconds, Drew’s body grew rigid, not unlike the Incredible Hulk before his clothes rip and he turns green. Finally, I continued, “Mack’s taking care of Jason. You don’t need to ruin your night because he’s pissed. He’s a grown up. He can take care of himself.”


  “Look at the way he behaved tonight! What the hell is wrong with him? Can’t we have one night out without him fucking embarrassing me?”

  “It’s late. You had a great gig, and he took the celebration too far. Let it go, Drew.”

  I didn’t falter under his glare, and when he tried to push me away again, I held firm, my eyes focused on his.

  “Dance with me,” I said.

  “What? No, I-”

  “Please.”

  In the dark corner where we stood, away from prying eyes, I stared up at him and waited for him to calm down. Slowly, I loosened my grip on his wrist, and slipped my arms around his waist. When my hands rested on his back, his muscles relaxed beneath my fingertips and he stepped closer, pulling me into him.

  Oh boy. Butterflies beat their wings inside me as his eyes softened and everything except us faded away. His hands on my back held me firmly and we began to move to our own rhythm, completely oblivious to the dance track playing around us.

  I couldn’t let it mean too much. I couldn’t care that his fingers traced slow circles around the base of my spine, or that he shuffled his feet forward so he could hold me closer, tighter.

  I couldn’t care because this, him needing me, was only temporary. He needed me as a friend, and I needed to remember where I fit in his life.

  “Why does he always do this, Ells?”

  His question caused me to lift my head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  I knew. Jason had always been the irresponsible one. He always had to take everything one step too far. While most teens engage in a little underage drinking now and again, Jason used to sneak into the house blind drunk, leaving Drew to cover for him. Instead of smoking a cigarette, Jason smoked pot – Drew had still never forgiven him for the time he got me high when I was at university.

  “He does it because that’s who he is. He enjoys taking risks, breaking the rules. When he gets an idea, he’s unstoppable.”

  “Don’t you ever get tired of defending him?”

  Drew’s body locked up again, and I loosened my arms a little and took a small step back. “I wasn’t defending him, Drew. But you can’t spend the rest of your life angry with him for being who he is. He’s come a long way over the last two years.”