Unplugged: A Blue Phoenix Book

by Swallow, Lisa

  Following a trip to the bar, Liam leads us to a quiet corner with a beer and my diet coke. The last couple of times I’ve been out, I drank like I’m still a teen and suffered, so I’m starting with a soft drink. Although, I did sneak a glass of wine before we left, for Dutch courage.

  Liam sits back against the leather bench with his arm across the back. I sit on the stool opposite so he shifts around to get closer. Liam’s leg settles against mine and triggers the annoying shortness of breath I get when he touches, the sensation of the muscled thigh arousing me more than a simple touch should.

  “Your natural environment?” I ask him.

  “Yeah. Sometimes.”

  “Aren’t you bothered about Blue Phoenix fans coming here, too?”

  He shrugs. “If they do, it’ll be Jem they’re interested in although the press has backed off a bit lately; they’re following some shitty boy band around at the moment. I expect there’ll be other people hanging round ready to take pictures.”

  I tense. “And of me?”

  He rubs thumb across my cheek. “Only if they see us doing something intimate.”

  I shift my leg away. “Are Bryn and Jem bringing girls?”

  “No idea.”

  The idea of seeing Jem and Bryn again is strange. My recollections of the guys are stronger from when I was fifteen than the drunken night out a few years ago. How will they react to me and Liam together?

  I’m interrupted by a girl arriving in the bar. ‘Arriving’ is a mild way of putting the entrance of the tall, skinny girl. She crashes through a side door and stomps in motorcycle boots across the room. Dressed in a short black dress barely covering any of her long legs, her hair shines scarlet red as it catches the light of the bar. The girl leans across and shouts at the barman. He hands her four beer bottles, which she picks up, two in each hand. As she turns around, the girl spots me and Liam in the corner.

  “Are you Liam?” she asks.

  “Why?”

  “I’m only asking! Wow…” She stomps off.

  Liam turns his surprised look to mine. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “She must have missed the memo about your beautiful nature,” I reply.

  Liam huffs and digs me in the ribs with his elbow. “Don’t start…”

  I fight against the desire to shift closer to him, knowing he’ll put his arm around me. I’m behaving like a silly teen again, and I doubt that’s what Liam’s used to. Or maybe he is.

  Shortly after the girl’s abrupt entrance and exit, the sound of people setting up the band equipment on the nearby stage crashes over the low music playing. Other new arrivals trickle into the bar area. They’re dressed down as if they threw on any clothes they found on their bedroom floor, but everyone appears more alike than the individual look they want. Nobody pays attention to us, Liam blends into the scene around him. When he pulls out his phone and sends a text, I use the moment surreptitiously to check my phone for texts from Phoebe.

  is displayed on my screen.

  Typical Phoebe.

  “They’re running late,” says Liam, interrupting my considered response to Phoebe.

  When an awkward silence joins us at the table, I decide alcohol is a good idea after all. Even though I’m comfortable around the St Davids Liam, he’s still Liam Oliver from Blue Phoenix and I’m a fish out of water in this venue. Liam returns to the bar and while he’s there a girl with long black hair and a too tight, short skirt approaches and chats to him. Behind my bristling jealousy is curiosity at how Liam handles his fame. I know he’s not at the forefront as Dylan and Jem are, but there’ll be others like me who prefer the quieter bass player to the egotistical pair.

  When Liam returns with my vodka and tonic, he’s laughing to himself.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask as he sets my drink on the table.

  “That girl wanted to know if the rest of the band would be here tonight.”

  “Isn’t Liam Oliver enough for her?”

  “I told her Jem would be here and that seemed to brighten her evening.”

  I giggle as he sits. “Oh well, you’ll have to make do with me then if the groupies are rejecting you.”

  Liam catches me unaware by taking my chin in his hand and tugging my face toward his. “Make do?” He brushes his lips against mine. “I want everyone to know I’m with you.”

  Liam’s hand remains under my chin, lips hovering close to mine. The slight taste of his kiss and the rough scrape from his skin takes over and flares my body to life. I can’t start kissing Liam, not here. He pushes my hair from my face, fingers grazing heat before he hesitantly places his mouth on mine again. I duck my head.

  “Hey, Cherry Pie!” calls a voice.

  I groan inwardly. There’s only one person who ever calls me that. I fail to see how Bryn can turn Cerys, which is pronounced Ker-iss, into ‘cherry’ or ‘pie’ but he somehow managed. One night around eight years ago, when he and the others were high in Liam’s room, he formulated the name and it stuck. Should I be flattered that he remembers?

  Bryn stands at the edge of the table, arms open in greeting. “Long time, no see. I hear you’ve got a kid now!”

  I hesitate before standing; Bryn is no longer an old friend but a famous guy I used to know. He’s also a lot broader and several inches taller than Liam, and if I didn’t know him, he’d intimidate me. Bryn squashes me to his chest in a bone-crushing hug, brown curls tickling my face. I extricate myself from his enthusiasm and he stands back, sweeping a gaze over me.

  “You’re all grown up!” He raises a suggestive eyebrow at Liam before dragging a stool out and sitting.

  I sit too and Liam places his hand over mine, under the table, and squeezes. “Is Jem here?” asks Liam.

  “You bet; this is his little project. I think he’s with the band trying to keep his hands off the lead singer.”

  Liam snorts. “Of course. Are you staying with him still?”

  “Yeah, chief babysitter.”

  “Don’t let him hear you say that,” Liam replies.

  “He asked me to stay with him; he knows that’s what I think about the situation. At least he’s clean since he left rehab.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, I worry about him being in this scene around others drinking and drugging, but he seems okay.”

  “Is Dylan coming?” Liam asks.

  “Nah. I think him and Sky are in Asia currently. Or Australia, I’m not sure. I can’t keep track, and Dylan’s pretty cagey about people knowing their plans.”

  “What you mean is he doesn’t want Steve to know.”

  “Come on, you know Steve’s backed off on the micromanaging while we have time out.”

  “Hmm. For now.”

  As they switch to chatting about Liam’s work with a band I haven’t heard of, and discussing the merits of fellow musicians, I switch off and attempt to convince myself this is really happening. Am I honestly sitting in a club with Liam, away from motherhood and mundanity? Liam’s hand remains protectively around mine. Yes, I’m in the middle of a dream I once had. Liam Oliver wants me.

  Another group walks into the empty pub, attempting not to stare at us; but when one of the guys orders at the bar, the two girls he’s with fight against gawking at us. I switch my focus to the glass in front of me.

  “We’ll have to go out the back soon,” says Bryn, “Too many people here now. Once the band starts we can come back through, but I don’t feel like being hassled right now.”

  “Sure. Cerys?” Liam stands and picks up our drinks.

  Under several sets of eyes, we follow Bryn behind the bar to the back of the pub.

  Toward the back of the building, Ruby Riot hangs out in a room preparing to go on stage and I have the dubious pleasure of joining them. Two guys sit on the sofa comparing something on their phones and a third guy rests against the wall drinking beer. The guys on the sofa are around my age but that’s where the comparison stops. They have matching spikey black hair
and piercings and I’d lay bets that they’re brothers; the similarity is so strong between them. Everybody I come across tonight has tattoos; these guys each have a sleeve extending toward their neck, a bright mash of colours and pictures.

  The solidly built man on his own is older, closer in age to Liam. I like muscles on a guy but this is someone who spends a lot of time working out to achieve the bulk he does. Nobody could have that much natural muscle. His close-cropped hair and attitude gives him an odd demeanour, an air of something beyond tension around him that frightens me.

  “Hey, guys,” says Bryn then frowns. “Where’re the rest of you?”

  “Just what I was thinking,” mutters the man who’s against the wall. “I thought you were looking for them.” Something about the way he looks at me prickles my neck and I grip Liam’s hand. I felt out of place the moment I walked into the room and this isn’t helping.

  “Nah, Jem’s with Ruby and Jax, I think they all went out for a smoke,” says one of the men on the sofa. “You brought a chick tonight, huh, Liam?”

  “Cerys,” I say and pull a sour face at his description.

  “Hey, Cerys. I’m Will and this is my baby brother, Nate. Bass player and drummer with the famous Ruby Riot!” He grins.

  “Famous? Dream on,” says the third man.

  “Don’t kill the dreams, Dan!” Nate says and the look that passes between them suggests an animosity beneath the surface. “This is Dan, our delectable lead singer, Ruby’s, groupie.”

  “Ha fucking ha.” He looks at me. “She’s my other half.”

  “And because you’re here all the time, that makes you our official groupie,” grins Will.

  “Sure, dickhead, you’re funny…” He looks to Bryn. “Was she in the bar?”

  “Nope.”

  Nate checks his phone. “We’re on in fifteen, she always does this. I bet Jem’s talking her down again. “

  Talking her down? The amount I’ve drunk since I arrived makes itself known. “I should um… go to the bathroom before the band starts,” I say to Liam.

  “You okay?” he asks quietly.

  “Fine,” I lie.

  The bathrooms are located halfway between the room and the bar area and there’s no queue, which leaves me ten minutes. I’m not keen on going back into the room and standing awkwardly waiting for the gig to start. The bar isn’t an option, so I head toward the propped open fire door for some fresh air. I’m about to step out when I notice two figures huddled in the shadows talking in insistent voices. The door leads to a narrow alley that runs between the pub and the main street, and the couple are on the edge of the light filtering through from the building.

  God, I hope this isn’t going to turn into a physical argument because the girl’s hand gestures get wilder. The man doesn’t retaliate instead standing with his arms crossed against his chest. I can’t hear what they’re saying. Do I go? Wait in case she needs help?

  The tall girl moves, and the light catches her bright red hair; the man grabs her arm.

  The light casts across his face. I last saw him in person the night Liam kissed me almost six years ago, but the wiry figure with long brown curls touching his shoulders is unmistakably Jem.

  “Sort this shit out,” he says to the girl.

  “I’m fucking trying,” she hisses at him.

  They’re closer and I’m now privy to a conversation I probably shouldn’t be. “You can’t live like this, Ruby.”

  “Sure, oh, wise one, I’ll follow your example, should I?”

  “Don’t hide behind that bullshit.”

  “Then don’t start now, I’m on stage soon and you’re messing with my fucking head.” She attempts to move but Jem’s grip on her remains. “Let me go.”

  “The other night…” he starts.

  “This is none of your fucking business. Stick to worrying about the band.” Her harsh tone breaks. “Jem, you have to back off.”

  “There’s so much I want to say to you,” he says and reaches out to touch her cheek. Ruby flinches and Jem grabs her face turning it to him. “Is the bastard hitting you again?”

  “Get the fuck off me!” She struggles against Jem as he wipes at her cheek.

  “Everyone sees; you can’t hide it. You said he’s stopped! You fucking lied!”

  “Because I know you won’t keep out of it and things’ll get worse. Jem, please, leave me alone!” Ruby slumps against the wall and pulls a packet of cigarettes from her pocket with shaking hands.

  I can’t move, as if I’m watching a car crash and my body won’t pull me away.

  Jem grabs Ruby’s wrist and pulls her to him, rests his head against hers and says something I can’t hear. Ruby’s shoulders drop and she moves her head to look at him. Time to leave before I see something I shouldn’t.

  I head back to the Green Room and slip through the door. Another guy has joined the group and he immediately greets me with a hand to shake.

  “I’m Jax,” he says. In a huge contrast to Dan, still skulking against the wall, he has a calm, friendly aura, the kind of person you can’t help but smile along with. He has a pierced eyebrow, and a blonde fringe sweeping halfway into sapphire blue eyes. “Lead guitar.”

  “Been looking for you,” says Jem, barging into the door behind almost knocking into me. “Where were you?”

  “Busy,” he grins.

  “It’s a lead guitarist thing,” Bryn whispers loudly to me. “They can’t keep it in their pants.”

  “You’re not as funny as you think, Bryn,” says Jem, and then catches sight of me. “Hey, Cerys, forgot you were coming.”

  I’m shocked by Jem’s appearance now I see him in the light. Bryn and Liam have a rugged look but Jem’s is one step further. I’m not sure if it’s what’s hidden behind his intense brown eyes, or the gaunter face; but he looks older than his twenty-five years. The edgy attractiveness is there, the angled cheekbones and sensual mouth impossible to ignore, but his years of abuse are clear.

  “Hello, Jem.”

  Jem doesn’t reply; too preoccupied with organising the band as he turns to Jax, and says something to do with the evening ahead that I have no understanding about.

  I sit on the sofa with Liam and attempt to quell the discomfort that entered our evening. I want to get out before Ruby appears, too. Liam touches my knee. “You okay?”

  The claustrophobia in the small room grows when Ruby slams open the door and fills it with her attitude. Without looking at anyone, Ruby marches straight to the guitars in the corner.

  “Where’ve you been, angel?” asks Dan.

  Ruby drags her short fingernails through her hair and hooks the strap of the red guitar around her skinny chest before pointing to her face. “Re-decorating.”

  A muscle in Dan’s cheek twitches and he glances at Jem, who’s continuing his intense conversation with Jax. “We’re going straight home tonight,” Dan says to Ruby.

  “Yeah, whatever.” She notices me. “Hey.”

  No smile, no further small talk.

  “Why the fuck is everyone still sitting here?” she asks. “Tweedledum and Tweedledee, get your asses into gear” She throws an empty water bottle at the brothers, and they stand like kids being admonished by their mum.

  Jax snorts at Ruby. “Such a polite girl, our Ruby,” he says and she gives him the middle-finger.

  “Is your pre-show fuck done with?” she shoots back at Jax.

  He clutches his chest. “You always think the worst of me, Miss Tuesday.”

  “Don’t fucking call me that.” She grabs another bottle of water. “Come on!”

  Ruby whirls out of the room in much the same way as she did the bar earlier, continuing to swear under her breath. If I thought her boyfriend was edgy, he’s as cool as they come, compared to her. It’s a long time since I’ve hung around with people who use variants of the word ‘fuck’ as an adjective at every opportunity. I glance at Liam who looks as stunned as me. Bryn winks at me and Jem behaves as if she were never in the room. Da
n finally peels himself from his attachment to the wall and follows her. I watch Jem and the anger in his eyes is unmistakable.

  I resolve never to speak to Dan. I’ve had friends trapped in cycles of violence in relationships and have seen the aftermath. Despite Ruby’s foul mouth and the dismissive attitude she has to me, I hurt for her. I’ve known girls like her. They’re surrounded by barbed wire to protect themselves from the world. The problem is this fences in everything that’s hurt them, trapping the pain. If Ruby’s involved with Jem Jones, he’ll get more than barbed wire scratches and it won’t be pretty.

  ****

  Half an hour into the band’s set and my old love of live music is reignited. The girl on stage holds a presence that expands across the room and grabs the crowd by the throat. Ruby, the girl whose weakness I just witnessed, now holds her own on stage. I’m used to sanitised and remixed singers from TV; and I love and remember this intense sound from my teen years. The delicate balance between volume and skill fills the room and my mind, and Liam’s decision to come here is forgiven. No way would I like to be at a quiet restaurant and miss this.

  Liam stands behind me with arms wrapped around my waist, and I’m encompassed by the warmth of his affection. There’re no wandering hands, just the occasional scrape of Liam’s rough cheek against my neck as he kisses me. For the first time in years, I’m the Cerys who is special to someone.

  Following the discomfort of my visit to the backstage, if it weren’t for the way the band captured me in the first song, I’d have asked Liam if we could leave.

  Once Ruby Riot finish playing, people drift away to other more interesting venues, the pub descending into relative quiet. I return to the corner that I shared with Liam; and to my surprise, the others come over too.

  Will pushes a hand through his short black hair and flicks his tongue piercing over his teeth. “What did you think, Liam? Reckon we could give the next Blue Phoenix tour a go?”