Fallen for Rock

by Wells, Nicky

  He didn’t finish his sentence, and I jumped in with a reply.

  ‘I’m glad I came. I needed an adventure. I…I wasn’t in a good place before I met you last night.’

  ‘I gathered. Glad to be of service.’ He smiled, and his face shone brightly. Before I could get lost in the sea of emotion opening up right there in those dark brown eyes, Adam broke the mood.

  ‘Let’s move on, folks,’ he declared and clapped his hands energetically. ‘Glasgow is waiting for you.’

  Obediently, the band members rose from their seats and began filing out of the restaurant. I laughed.

  ‘He’s like a kindergarten teacher.’

  Mike laughed, too. ‘He has to be, with us lot. But come on, we’d better hurry or else we’ll get told off.’

  We rolled into the car park behind the Glasgow Arena at almost exactly three p.m. The band was instantly whisked off to a local radio station for an interview before soundcheck, which left Laura and me standing on the pavement like two lost wanderers.

  ‘What’s next?’ I asked of Laura, tacitly acknowledging her superior experience in this department.

  Laura shrugged. ‘I’ll be gettin’ on the next train home, I s’ppose. Got work tomorrow, an’ all that. What about you?’

  My turn to shrug. ‘I’m staying put for a while, I guess. I’m on holiday anyway, as it happens.’

  ‘Lucky you.’ She wrapped me in a quick hug. ‘Look after you, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t be doin’, okay? It was nice meetin’ you.’

  ‘And you, too. Travel safe, yes?’

  ‘I will.’ She let go of me and squared her shoulders. ‘I reckon the train station is that way,’ she grinned and set off in a loping walk along the road. ‘Bye-ee.’

  ‘Bye-ee,’ I echoed her farewell and stared after her for a few seconds. I felt unaccountably bereft. It had been nice having female company in this unfamiliar terrain. Her presence had made the whole thing more acceptable somehow. Now it was only me.

  ‘Not for long, I bet,’ I snorted with sudden laughter. ‘Who knows who Jake’ll pick up tonight. Speaking of tonight… I need some clothes and things.’

  I retrieved my mobile and called up Google to figure out where I was, and where I could go shopping. A few seconds later, I started walking down the road in the same direction as Laura in search of a shopping mall. Sure enough, it was only a short walk and quick dash across the river Clyde until I stumbled across the consumer’s haven.

  Initially, I window-shopped in all the usual places, eyeing up expensive trousers and shirts with glee. But I stopped myself short. This wasn’t what was needed. I had too much haute couture already. I required something more authentic.

  My eyes alighted on a small independent clothes store, and I walked in uncertainly, feeling out of my depth. Less than twenty minutes later, I walked out again, clad in hipster jeans, fashionably torn and embroidered down the side of one leg, and a slinky plain shirt designed to be knotted at the waist and showing off rather a lot of navel. I barely recognised myself in the mirror, but I looked great.

  My ordinary clothes stuffed carelessly in the store’s paper carrier bag, I made my way to a shoe shop to exchange my block heels for more suitable footwear. I found a pair of clunky black clogs with hobnails running along of the uppers, and I fell in love with them instantly—probably because they were wildly comfortable.

  Last order of the day was to stock up on toiletries, and I raided a nearby chemist for my brand of shampoo, conditioner, soap and make-up essentials. I even bought a dinky little beauty bag to store everything, as though I were travelling properly. It was all rather exciting, actually, and I felt good. No longer elegant nor sophisticated, but a little wild and very much free.

  Back at the arena, the security staff had meanwhile erected barriers. A crowd had gathered and was growing by the minute. This time, I wasn’t daunted. I retraced my steps to the stage doors and waved my VIP pass at the doorman.

  ‘Emily Trenden. I’m with the band,’ I declared haughtily. He wasn’t a familiar face, and for a fraction of a second, I worried that he would query my out-of-date credentials. But no.

  ‘Go on through,’ he nodded and stepped aside. I resisted the urge to execute a triumphant air-punch and floated past him in a dignified, I belong kind of manner.

  The band was on stage for their soundcheck, and I debated watching the spectacle. I found myself endlessly fascinated by the procedure but decided against it. My need for a shower trumped every other desire. Thus it was that I greeted the band wide-eyed and clean-smelling when they trooped into the green room after the soundcheck.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ Jake enthused. ‘Look who’s all fresh and edible.’

  I gave a little ballerina twirl, taking the innuendo in my stride.

  ‘Indeed,’ Mike agreed good-naturedly. ‘But you’ll have to find your own forbidden fruit because this here’s mine.’ He wrapped a proprietorial arm around me. Mee-ow! Who would have thought men had claws like that? I changed conversational direction.

  ‘How did the interview go?’

  ‘Fab. A bit hectic, but fab. It’s going out tonight, right before the show, we think.’

  ‘So, soundcheck done, what’s next for you?’

  ‘Showers.’

  ‘Dinner.’

  ‘Bit of telly.’

  I laughed. ‘Sounds very domesticated.’

  Jake gave me a rueful look. ‘It’s five minutes of sanity in a crazy day.’

  ‘But you love it, really,’ Will teased.

  ‘Of course. Still, it’s nice to chill, right?’

  With that, the band dispersed. Lewis and Mike went off to the showers—not together, evidently—while Will sat down to catch up on his favourite soaps and Jake tucked into some food. I joined him, figuring that everybody else needed a bit of space, and that I might as well eat.

  ‘Emily, a word please.’ Yet again Adam cut short my eating pleasure, for he summoned me when the first fork of food had barely made its way to my mouth. I set down my plate.

  ‘Of course.’

  Adam motioned for me to join him in the anteroom, and my heart sank to my brand new clogs. What had I done?

  ‘So. Emily. A little word to the wise, if I may.’

  Gulp. Even though that sounded serious, I opted for levity. ‘I’m all ears. Fire away.’

  ‘This isn’t real, you know.’ Adam made a vague gesture towards the green room. ‘Mike’s only playing with you. I don’t need any heartache or any rumours splashed about the papers.’

  OMG, a telling off from the band manager! I felt like a duly chastised teenager, but I bit back a tart response. He was only protecting his charges and his business interests.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I smiled sweetly. ‘I know. I’m hardly your archetypical star-struck fan, am I? I’m only playing along.’

  Adam looked at me with new interest. ‘Why?’

  ‘Why? Well.’ I paused. This was none of his business really. ‘Let’s just say I’m taking a break from being me. I’m twenty-seven. Believe me, I know what I’m doing. Besides, I can only tag along for a few days. But meanwhile, I intend to have some fun, as long as Mike wants it and no one gets hurt.’

  ‘You surprise me,’ Adam conceded. ‘But please don’t get between Mike and the band.’

  I frowned, nonplussed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. Why do you say that?’

  ‘No particular reason. Just…just beware, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Well, what else could I say? I had no clue what he was talking about, but it sounded ominous. It sounded as though not all was as well with MonX as the publicity gurus would have the world believe.

  When I reclaimed my food, Jake had disappeared to the showers, and Mike and Lewis were busy demolishing the buffet.

  ‘All right?’ Mike looked at me, curious.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘What did Adam want? Did he warn you off?’

  I snorted. ‘He did, but not in the way you think. He s
eems worried I might do something stupid.’

  ‘He worries too much. Hey, you look great, have you been shopping?’

  ‘Get you, it’s not like a bloke to notice these things! But yes, I couldn’t have worn those same clothes again.’

  ‘You look different. More relaxed than last night.’

  I blushed under Mike’s scrutiny. How was it possible that he could figure me out so quickly?

  ‘That would be the good company,’ I joked. ‘And taking a holiday.’

  ‘Hmm yes, a holiday. That sounds good. I’ve got to try that sometime.’

  There was a tired undertone in his voice that worried me. An up-and-coming rock star oughtn’t to sound so weary. Once more I got the distinct impression that something wasn’t quite right in the world of MonX, but before I could probe a little further, a bell went.

  ‘Twenty minutes until show time,’ Mike diagnosed. ‘Better get dressed and ready. Where do you want to watch tonight?’

  I waggled my head in contemplation. ‘I think I’ll try the VIP seats tonight, if that’s an option.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll get Adam to show you there.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was different, watching the show from the balcony. The sound was better, and I was a lot less hot. Plus I had a much better view, and I relished this different perspective. MonX were certainly an outstanding band made up of accomplished musicians, and I cringed to think that I had ever doubted the skill or expertise behind rock music. If only I could tell Nate about my change of heart.

  But I guessed that ship had very much sailed. Even though I had half expected some kind of text or message during the night—it would have been fateful, wouldn’t it, to have got a call from Nate halfway through my lovemaking with Mike?—there was nothing.

  I knew my relationship with Nate was well and truly over. There could be no doubt about it now. But still my heart wouldn’t accept it. Going crazy with Mike the previous night, and going with Mike, hadn’t changed my feelings for Nate. I loved him.

  Having sex with Mike and coming on tour was merely an effort on my part to get over Nate, I was fully cognizant of that fact. It was working up to a point; I was discovering a whole new side of me that I wouldn’t have found otherwise. Ironically, though, that made my heart ache even more for Nate. Because this new Emily, she would have been the perfect girlfriend for him.

  Can you betray someone when he doesn’t want to know you anymore? That thought swirled round and round my head while I watched my second MonX concert. Technically, I supposed, betrayal involved actually being in a relationship. And I wasn’t. I was free. But practically, my heart wasn’t free. My heart still belonged to Nate, and probably always would.

  Then again, by that logic, I might as well join a convent. And as that wasn’t an option, I had better move on and hope my heart would heal of its self-inflicted wound. Which brought me back to Mike.

  The best way to get over a man is to get under another. Crass statement of crass statements from a sitcom I had never even seen and yet, suddenly, its logic appealed.

  ‘Emily Trenden,’ I whispered under my breath. ‘You’re officially in crisis. You’re on the rebound. You’ve no idea what you’re doing. So I hope you know what you’re doing, going along with yourself like that.’

  Crisis or not, I was committed to my course of action. A couple of hours later, I found myself checking into a cheap and cheerful chain hotel with Mike and the band as though I had been doing this all my life.

  ‘It’s not exactly the lap of luxury,’ Mike apologised after he had closed the door to our room behind us. ‘We’re not quite rich enough to go five star all the way. Accommodation comes out of our own coffers, and I ain’t ready to burn through our meagre budget. Even though some…’ He paused for a second, but appeared to change his mind about what he was going to say. ‘Anyway. Sorry I can’t offer you something better.’

  I cut short his apology with a kiss. ‘It’s okay. This is perfectly fine. It’s clean and quiet, and…’ I pushed Mike gently onto the bed while I spoke, ‘I’m sure the bed is nice and comfy.’

  He grinned at me appreciatively. ‘At the end of the day, that’s all that matters.’

  ‘At the end of the day, that’s all that matters,’ I repeated before discarding my clothes. ‘So I’m afraid we’ve got to test it. And the shower, too. But one thing at a time.’

  After a night of not sleeping very much at all, we rose early on Monday morning to board the coach and head for Manchester. I felt excited as the road trip nature of my adventure continued to exert its pull. Yet where I had expected singing, laughter, and camaraderie, the mood on the bus was strangely subdued.

  ‘What’s wrong? Have you fallen out or something? Or do you need some space from each other?’

  Mike smiled ruefully. ‘The latter. Touring is tough. We’re on top of each other more or less all day, every day, and it’s wearing. It’s like the worst kind of relationship, except we never even get to walk away. So travelling time is time for headspace. Everybody likes to veg out. We’ll be all right when we get there, you’ll see.’

  ‘Wow.’ I laughed softly. ‘I had no idea. I had this vision of bands being jolly and creative on tour. You know, writing songs, using every free minute of time to make music…’

  ‘Oh, we do do that. We used to do it all the time, but we’re a bit knackered. Now we write and practice when there’s a deadline, or when Adam has booked studio time somewhere. This tour is so short and sweet, however, that he’s decided to let us off. Good job too. Otherwise…’ He erupted into a cheeky grin. ‘Otherwise I wouldn’t get to spend any time with you at all.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  Mike winked. ‘We talk. And we play games.’ He wiggled in his seat and fumbled in his back pocket until he retrieved a pack of cards.

  ‘Musical top trumps?’

  ‘Uh-huh. It’s eighties pop and dance. You up for this?’

  I suppressed a belly laugh. ‘It’s not my scene, but I’ll have a go. You’re a guaranteed winner.’

  ‘Is that a promise?’

  ‘Possibly. If you had a “classical composers” set, you wouldn’t stand a chance, but I’m game if you are.’

  So we talked and played games while the other band members passed the time listening to music on their iPods or reading magazines or snoozing.

  When we arrived in Manchester, everyone snapped out of relaxed apathy into full-on concentration. The roadies had driven through the night, and the stage was ready for soundcheck, so the band got busy right away for an hour. However, there were no interviews or TV appearances scheduled that day, which meant more waiting around after the short, sharp burst of action.

  ‘It’s all stop and go for you guys,’ I commented to Mike over dinner in the green room.

  ‘Yeah. “Hurry up and wait.”’ He echoed what Jed had told me during that first soundcheck, and grimaced. ‘You got that right.’

  ‘Mike, it’s probably not my place to say this, but none of you strikes me as very happy.’ I shrugged. ‘This is simply an observation. I’m finding it a little hard to reconcile what I see with what I expected to see. Don’t get me wrong.’ I put a reassuring hand on his arm. ‘I’m having a great time. It’s just that you all seem out of sorts with each other. Jaded.’

  ‘We are a bit, I suppose,’ Mike conceded. ‘Still, it’s all normal. We’ll be right as rain on that stage tonight, you wait and see.’

  ‘It’s not…’ I hesitated. I didn’t mean to sound presumptuous, but I had this nagging worry at the back of my mind that needed to be addressed. ‘It’s not me, is it? I’m not cramping your style in any way? Because if I am, I’m quite happy to clear off, you know?’

  ‘No!’ Mike’s vehement response startled me, and I jumped. Mike smiled and spoke more gently. ‘No. Please, don’t even think that. It’s wonderful having you here. You’re a breath of fresh air. Please don’t go.’

  ‘Okay. If you’re sure…’

&nbs
p; ‘I’m sure. You’re different. Most girls come backstage, and they’re all over us. They demand photos and kisses and autographs in strange places…’

  ‘I’ve had my share of hugs and kisses,’ I stated the obvious.

  ‘But that’s different. That’s between you and me. You’re not…you’re not attention seeking. You’re simply here. With me.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘How can I explain? You seem to care. You’re interested. I don’t quite know why you here, but you’re not after the thrill—’

  ‘Oh, trust me, I am.’ I had to correct him there. ‘I’m doing this for the thrill, and to prove something to myself. I’m here for entirely selfish reasons.’

  Mike held my gaze. ‘Be that as it may, you’re not here to get your photograph in the papers, or to sleep with everyone in the band plus all the roadies, or to validate yourself somehow. Ack.’ He mussed up his hair some more. ‘I’m not saying this very well. Since we got famous, we’ve been trailed by people who’re like leeches. They’re not interested in us, only in what they can get out of us. You’re not like that.’

  I laughed out loud. ‘No, I’m not a leech, that’s for sure. But I am here to validate myself. In a manner of speaking.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well.’ It was time to come clean. ‘My boyfriend—my ex—he wanted to be a rock singer and guitarist. It was his life’s dream. He had a band. He was practising all the time. And I hated it. I hated rock. I didn’t see his talent or the attraction of the music. I didn’t get any of it.’

  Mike raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘Sadly, no. We broke up. I dumped him one night after we’d had a row, and I haven’t heard from him since.’

  ‘Didn’t you say he won the VIP tickets?’

  ‘I did. And he did. But I couldn’t get him to come along, so I thought maybe if I came by myself, it would change things.’ I gave a rueful smile.

  ‘And? Did it work?’

  ‘No. Yes. Both, I suppose. He never showed, but I discovered rock. I…’ I sniffled.

  ‘You still love him.’ A statement, not a question.