Fractures

by M R Field

  As I bring the drinks back to our booth, the vibrant murmur of the crowd creates a buzz of excitement. The headlining act, the EVs, consists of Hazel, Trice, Maxi, Roni, and Jules—the group that was extremely popular here last year.

  I place the beers down on the table and pass Trin the mixer. I shift to sit next to her on the leather bench seat. She moves across slightly, but her mouth pulls in a slight twinge, her movements delicate as she shuffles slowly along the seat.

  My mouth moves closer to her face and I whisper, “You okay?”

  A secret smile spreads across her lips as she tilts her face towards mine. Our eyes clash. “Definitely. I’m just a little tender from before.” She squirms a little in her seat as she turns the bottle in her hand, pretending to pick at the label. “Someone was very enthusiastic earlier.”

  “I’d normally apologise but, you know …” I raise my eyebrows at her and wiggle them.

  “You smug bastard.” She smacks me lightly on the arm.

  I take a sip of my beer to hide my grin as she laughs next to me. My free hand goes under the table, and I rest it on her thigh, giving her a playful squeeze.

  “I had a thought the other day.” Ty, Alex and Robbie’s mate from high school, reaches for his beer, and he brings it closer to him.

  “Only one?” Trin asks innocently as she tilts her head at him. “This is going to be good,” she teases.

  “I was at Alex’s place,” he continues, ignoring her jibe. “All those books Trice has on her shelf? I could do that.”

  “Do what exactly?” Alex leans back in the booth, his arm casually draped along the back, his beer hanging from his fingers.

  “I was impressed with all the lady porn on the shelf. You know, I like to think up new porno scenarios, so maybe instead of whacking off, I should write my thoughts down.”

  Trin jolts beside me, and I turn to find her wiping her chin with her hand from her spilt drink.

  Ty takes a sip of his beer, oblivious to the coughing and spluttering happening beside me. “I’d make a killing.”

  “You’re not serious?” Alex shakes his head. “Part of me wants to ask what you’d write about but … never mind.” He chuckles.

  “I could write about my experiences, like some man of the night.” His voice dramatically deepens.

  “Manwhore Adventures?” Trin offers. “Or Tales of your Todger?”

  “I like that.” I nod, clearly impressed. “My girl has a way with words.” I rub her knee affectionately.

  “I honestly reckon I could do it.” He looks around enthusiastically. “I could fill it with all sorts of tales. Like the time I tried pegging. I realised I couldn’t take it rough. That’d be a best-seller.”

  “Dude, a filter. Please,” Alex pleads. “Get a motherfucking filter.”

  “I’m sure it’s already been done,” Aidan, who used to be Trice’s dance partner, adds, tapping the tabletop as he laughs. “But now that you mention it, my mum has a pretty extensive stack of novels that she reads.” His face tightens. “I don’t want to think about that, anymore.” He slumps in his seat. “But give it a crack, pardon the pun.” He smiles, and I raise my beer towards him.

  “Touché,” I say, and we clink glasses.

  “Hope the girls are out soon,” he says. “I haven’t seen much of Jules today.”

  “Trice mentioned that you went to visit her family, down mid-west,” Alex discloses, as he puts his beer on the table.

  “Yeah, that was fun …” Aidan growls. “I got to meet her burly father and three brothers.

  The three farmer boys spent most of the weekend asking me to twinkle my toes and shit.

  They’re stuck in the ice ages, thinking that any man who can dance is a ‘poof.’”

  “That is bullshit, man.” Ty’s voice hardens. I look over at him, and his fist curls on top of the table. “My twin came out to me last year, and I was pissed he hadn’t done it sooner.”

  “Sam?” Trin grins. “That’s awesome. I know a heap of single men if he’s looking for love.”

  Ty’s eyes soften as he grins. “I’ll let him know, but he’s up in Sydney now, and I think he’s seeing someone. It’s all hush-hush, though. Still shit that people generalise.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Aidan muses, as he twirls the beer between his fingers. “Turns out the quickest way to emasculate a country boy is to kick his arse in footy.”

  “That’s awesome,” Alex muses. Trin grins beside me, tapping my hand with hers.

  “They brought out a football after lunch, being all cocky and speaking to me like I was slow or something. But once we started playing, I soon showed them who was fucking boss. Those fat bastards might’ve been tall, but I was stronger and faster. I showed them who could twinkle their toes.”

  We begin to laugh, but our laughter is cut short by the dimming of the house lights. The hush of the crowd descends as they wait for the show to start, the only sound that of quiet murmurs here and there.

  The stage is dark until a small droplight turns on, pinpointing Hazel sitting on a stool at centre stage, with Maxi sitting on another beside her, holding her acoustic guitar. The two of them smile at each other, and once Hazel nods, Maxi starts to play a different rendition of the song “I Wanna Dance With Somebody,” and the room instantly silences.

  Hazel’s voice summons the attention of the entire audience, and I glance back to find Robbie standing at the bar, admiring his fiancée knocking it out of the park. As the song reaches the chorus, the figures of the rest of the band step into their places. Jules hops on the drums to jump into the song, and she plays an upbeat tempo with Roni beside her. Trice is to the side on the other microphone, singing back-up, and I sense Alex shifting in his seat next to Trin.

  “There’s my girl,” Alex boasts softly. “Fuck.” His voice changes into a low growl, laced with possession.

  “Easy, now, dude.” Trin’s voice is laced with humour. “They’re only costumes.”

  “She looks sexy as fuck,” his voice lowers.

  As their first performance continues, I take a moment to see what has Alex in a spin. My firecracker made some pretty awesome costumes. Trice and Hazel wear tight-fitting emerald corsets. Trin showed me how she’d hand-sewn some black feathers into the cleavage of the bodices, outlining their chests, while also making some shiny short skirts. Even the band is decked out in EV tight-fitted emerald shirts, suspenders, and ties to go with their black pants.

  Trin’s first goal had been to make Alex unsettled, and it had worked. Alex’s jaw remained locked for the rest of the performance, and he glared at any wanker who chose to try to play Russian roulette with his life by ogling Alex’s woman. I won’t be surprised if he gets up and heads over to the rowdy guys whistling in the front who just started to perve at the girls. Trice is his life, and he protects her as if she were made of glass.

  “Where’s Lily?” Ty utters, as his voice breaks through the tension that surrounds Alex.

  “She has reports to write, so she decided to stay home. Plus, Richard doesn’t like her coming here as it’s an unsavoury establishment, apparently.”

  “Ugh,” Aidan groans. “She still with that douche?”

  “Yep,” Alex responds. “No idea why. He’s a complete and utter fuckwit.”

  “Sounds like she needs to upgrade,” Trin muses. I look at her, and her chin points over to the side of the bar; I turn to see the security guy, Leon.

  Alex picks up on Trin’s gesture and shakes his head. “He’d eat her alive.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Trin raises one of her brows at him. “I think you’ll find he might be just what she needs.”

  “If only she’d give him the time of day,” Alex concedes.

  “Leave it with me,” Trin winks. “I’ll get the girls on it.”

  “Go for it.” He looks over at Trin, a small smile on his face. “I’m all for anything that makes my big sis happy.” A knowing look passes across both of their faces, and I rub Trin
’s leg in support.

  We continue watching the song, and Maxi breaks out into an instrumental. Ty shifts, focusing his full attention on her. Normally his eyes are on the waitresses when we’re out, but he’s transfixed.

  “She’s pretty good.” He moves his head to the side of the patron walking past to see better. “Totally smashing that riff.”

  “She is multi-talented,” Trin agrees.

  We watch the girls blitz through their pieces, each one really packing a punch. Alex leans forward from the bench seat and places his hands on the table. “Did she just wink at me?”

  I look at him, and he rubs his chin.

  “No idea.” Trin’s voice wavers with mirth.

  “She just did it again.” His voice pitches. “Are her hips going crazy, or is it just me?”

  “I think she’s being a cheeky minx,” Aidan laughs. “You’ve got yourself a handful there, mate.”

  “You’re so alpha, Alex,” Trin jokes. “Trice thinks it’s hilarious that you get all pent up. And for me, half the fun in making the costumes.”

  “I bet. She just winked again, the tease.” He shakes his head with a knowing smile.

  The current song ends, and we applaud as they bow. The house lights come on, and the girls move to take a break out the back for intermission.

  “I’m just going to the bathroom,” Alex says, and we shuffle along to allow him to get out of the booth. His eyes are transfixed on the stage. He walks towards Trice, but we know he’ll be stopping at the door just before it.

  “And look—there goes Robbie, while Deacon the bartender is left being the head bar bitch. Everyone avoid going near the dressing rooms.” Ty gives Robbie a whistle as he weaves through the crowd, but he ignores it.

  “Yep.” Trin holds up her drink, about to take another sip. “Last time I strolled in there, I copped an eyeful of Robbie’s arse. They lock the door now.” She shudders, and I’m surprised we can’t feel the walls shatter, thanks to what’s going on in there right now.

  A short time later, while ordering more drinks, Robbie returns with a lovesick expression on his face. I give him a knowing look, and he shrugs, without a care in the world. Unlike Alex and his constant pissing contests over Trice, Robbie is hardly possessive at all. Instead of threatening the nearest guys with a court martial for staring at his fiancée, he’ll choose to wink at her or raise a glass, thrilled that it is his woman on stage, wowing the crowd. He doesn’t give a flying fuck who is watching because he gets to take her home. If anything, it is visual foreplay for them both. Robbie’s messy hair and a smile the size of a planet are dead giveaways of their backstage activities.

  I nod at Robbie and return to the booth just as the lights descend for the second act. Trin snuggles into me with her hand on my leg, her head against my shoulder, as we both watch the stage. This time, Trice is seated at the piano alone, and she begins to play an instrumental version of “Colours of the Wind.” The music affects me more than I’d expected. I shift in my seat, and Trin moves her head to look at me.

  “Do you miss playing?” she asks, loud enough for only me to hear.

  “I shouldn’t”—I look down—“given how I was taught. But I can still appreciate beautiful playing. Just weird to feel a loss for it.”

  “It’s not weird; you would’ve loved playing at some stage. Some part of you wanted to be a pianist. Just sad that the joy you’re supposed to have was taken away from you.”

  “I could never measure up to his standards, though.”

  She shifts next to me to sit up more and grabs my face. “You are not defined by his expectations, which were unrealistic. You are defined by yours. Never forget that. If you want to play again someday, then play. I’d love to hear something on a rainy Sunday or a Friday evening … anything. It doesn’t matter.”

  I rub my nose against hers, admiring how the soft glow from the stage light touches her face. I marvel at how this beautiful, strong woman is finally mine. “Thank you, my little firecracker. I needed to hear that.”

  “Now, all I have to do is convince you to jump out of a plane, and we’re set.”

  “That I won’t do … and before you ask, not base jumping either.”

  She laughs, and we turn to the stage, my arm around her shoulders, holding her close as we watch the EVs perform. A year ago, we could barely sit near each other without teasing, wanting a reaction to get contact. Now, I can hold her all I want. And I’ll do just that.

  “I might not be there with you, but know that wherever you go, you carry me in your heart, just as I carried you in mine.

  “Your next adventure is around the corner. So, what are you waiting for? Live it!”

  Mum

  TRINITY

  Six months later

  My Converse scamper across the brick-covered laneway as my heart picks up speed. This feeling usually intensifies the closer I get to my destination, but this time, my heartbeat is even more forceful, like an erratic drum, eager and impatient. I quicken my pace as my hips twist to weave between the crowds gathered around. Maybe I need one of those yuppie scooters with a drink holder; I’d zip past these peeps in no time.

  I just had my last appointment for the day, which happened to be Brit. The fitting went well, though I still kept my guard up. It is a hard habit to break, but I am working on it.

  My hand clutches my side strap as it awkwardly flaps against my hip, the movement causing me to pull it against my neck. My toe catches in an uneven part of the path, and I almost trip, panicking slightly as I worry about the precious goods that I’m carrying.

  I round the corner to find Theo standing by the entrance, his hand in his suit pocket as he talks on his phone. Dressed in a suit, he is sex personified—mysterious, gorgeous, and with those green eyes contrasting with his suit. He turns at the sound of my little wolf whistle and smiles, quickly disconnecting his call to come to me. He can wear that suit all day, every day, but I want the tie.

  “Hey,” he greets me with open arms, welcoming me in his embrace. I go eagerly, wrapping my hands around his waist and raising my lips to his.

  “Hey, hottie.” I smile as his lips meet mine. We kiss softly on the footpath for a moment as my pulse flickers like a dragonfly. I pull away as the excitement causes me to move from one foot to the other. “You ready? Let’s go!”

  He steps back and looks at my shirt, and smiles. I have his latest design, Shatter Till I Fall, which I had specially ordered to read “I’m with Adam” on the back under Theo’s social media links. I’d wanted “I inspired your comic porn addiction,” but he hadn’t let me. Killjoy.

  He takes my hand, and we head towards the stairs. I swing his arm, turning to look up at his building. Since I found out that he was my TTE, I’ve taken pleasure in looking up at him when I visit to collect my own edition of the comic. He doesn’t like me paying for the novels, but I’m not going to let him pay for it. I am too used to my monthly tradition of coming here, and now that I know it is Theo’s, I feel proud to go into the comic store and see his work there. Bragging rights are at an all-time high. Today is the first time he is coming to experience it with me.

  “How’s work?” I look to his face and smile, trying to stow my excitement a little to hear about his day.

  “Not too busy today, as we’re just finishing up a few quotes. Cole is a bit chirpier, too.” He stops at the stairs and looks up at the building. “Letty still pretends to be annoyed at him, but I know she’s not.”

  “I guess you would have experience with broody females,” I tease, squeezing his hand.

  “Fuck dating tame ones; I like to live on the edge.”

  I take a step closer to the store’s entrance and tug his hand. “Let’s go live on the wild side, mi amor.” I bat my eyelashes and smile sweetly, remembering the many times I’ve used that phrase with him.

  “Right behind you, florecita.” His voice warms my insides, triggering the butterflies in my stomach to take flight. The informal Spanish lessons he’s had with Ri
cardo over coffee or a family dinner are going great. Sometimes I join them, but mostly I want him to have that special time to himself. Theo has learnt a few phrases and can work out bits and pieces, but the first time he called me a little flower was swoon-worthy. When he puts on that delicious accent, it’s like he is sending a tap straight to my clit. It is a wonder we resurfaced from home as he often tries it on me. Don’t think about that now.

  We walk hand in hand down the stairs, and I restrain myself from quickly dragging him, as I am eager to see the latest edition. I’ve been patient each month, not asking him about the storyline, and just waiting. It takes everything not to slip it into conversation, or when he works in his study not to offer to make another cup of coffee or give him a blow job for a panel. We still joke about the happily-ever-after that I’d sketched, which had Adam on one knee, shouting, “MILA, YOU ARE ALWAYS RIGHT.” I had been being a mega smart arse. Nothing new.

  We reach the landing and smile at each other briefly before we stroll over to his section. I become more eager with each step. As the shelf with Theo’s novels comes into view, I squeeze his hand excitedly and let go of it to move forward and retrieve his latest copy. I rub my hand over it in fascination, the tree of life no longer dull and raw. Instead, the heart within is vibrant and the branches are in bloom. Just like how I am feeling these days.

  I walk to the register and am about to pay, but Theo stops me. “I hate you paying for this.” He frowns as he grabs his wallet.

  “Just let me. I won’t allow you to,” I say, pushing down his wallet. “It’s part of the tradition.” I wink and pull out my note when the cashier pipes up.