Love Letter Duet: The Encore Edition

by Callie Anderson

  “Your favorite band is performing tonight.” He winked before leaning down and kissing my lips.

  My hands slapped to his face and pushed him away. “Gross, Axel. You taste like cigarettes.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “What? You’re leaving tomorrow and I wanted to give you a proper goodbye,” he said, his hand still coiled around Leslie’s neck.

  Axel paid our cover fee and headed towards the makeshift backstage to meet up with the rest of his band mates. Unfortunately, I had yet to hear Axel’s band perform. The excuse was that they were missing a lead singer. There were times I thought Axel was full of crap, but I loved him like a brother.

  Leslie’s frail arms waved in the air. “Let’s get you hammered!”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “Nothing like a hangover and a nine hour flight.”

  “Who gives a shit? It’s your last night here, girlie, and your ginger butt needs some shots.”

  Kate and Monica had arrived early enough to scrounge up some seats at the bar. Five minutes in and I had two shots, a SoCo, and a lime shoved down my throat. I wasn’t a big fan of drinking, but occasionally I’d let my hair down, and tonight was those occasion.

  “What took you so long to get here?” Monica asked. Monica was stunning, a natural beauty. She was blonde with long, lean legs, piercing green eyes and a smile that could draw any guy in. She wasn’t vain, but she was materialistic. Her clothes were name brand, she never wore the same thing twice, and she only dated men of a certain caliber: trust funds, country club memberships, or any man with a lot of money.

  “This one over here,” Leslie jabbed her finger in my shoulder, “took forever getting home. Then she took even longer getting ready because she’s all smitten over some guy she met.”

  My face burned and I smiled as I reached for my beer. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal?” Monica’s Texas accent made my smile grow wider. “Emmy, you have spent your whole semester avoiding boys.”

  First, I hadn’t avoided boys. I was focused on school, and what would be the point of getting involved with someone when every day was a day closer to me going home? Second, the boys I had met were . . . well, boys. But he wasn’t a boy. Nope, he was definitely a man: tall, tan, and with a smile that would make most girls in this dingy bar drop their panties. Not to mention the sound of his voice. What I wouldn’t do to hear it once more…

  “It’s seriously nothing. And besides, I leave tomorrow. What would be the point?” I lifted my beer to my cheek to cool off my heated flesh.

  “It would be nice to go home with a bang, pun intended!” Kate shouted over the emcee who had appeared on stage to introduce the first band. Her Boston accent was thick over the speakers. Kate was from Irish decent, we had that in common, and her red hair was a lighter shade than mine.

  The bartender lined up another round of shots in front of us. I looked over at Leslie, who pushed hers towards me. Why the hell not? It was my last night, after all.

  The crowd roared when Nose Deaf, a local alternative band, appeared on stage. Axel’s band was fourth on the roster and the only cover band for the night. The first three bands were great, but I was excited to finally see Axel perform. As Flagpole, an all-female band, exited the stage, we moved from the bar to our usual table. I climbed on top of the picnic table so I could see the boys on stage.

  The emcee tapped the microphone. “All right, everyone, let’s give a big welcome to Elephant Room!”

  My hands burned as they slammed against each other. Kate, Monica and Leslie all followed, hollering at the top of their lungs, but then my voice trapped in my throat—like someone had squeezed my neck.

  It was him.

  The guy who had been running laps in my mind was now standing on stage with Axel.

  Fuck.

  “How’s everyone doing tonight?”

  His voice erupted from the speakers and caused chills to run down my spine. Los Angeles was filled with millions of people. What were the chances?

  “We’re Elephant Room, and tonight we have some special songs for you.”

  Axel’s drumsticks rose over his head. Slamming them against each other, he counted to three.

  I didn’t know his name, but when he sang it was as if I had known him all my life. His voice was soothing, yet hoarse. It pulled you in and made you focus on the lyrics. I couldn’t sing, nor could I play an instrument, but I knew talent when I heard it. He was the real deal, and soon I would be watching him perform all over the world—I knew it. I had this feeling in my gut that music executives would be lined up at his feet to sign him. He had that look about him, the look that most mothers would warn their daughters to avoid. The look that screamed trouble. The look that sucked me in.

  Love, music, and me: the perfect, deadly combination.

  2

  WESTON

  I slid into the parking lot and parked my car in the empty spot. I killed the ignition, took a deep breath, and then hopped out of the driver’s seat. The nerves began to filter through my body as I blinked up at the club. This was the first time we were going to perform and the fear of letting the guys down was consuming me. Axel said we were ready, but I’d prefer a few more rehearsals before getting on stage.

  Popping my trunk open, I pulled my guitar out. A squeal from a girl a few yards away caught my attention. It was then I noticed Axel’s car pulling into Yorks and nearly running over someone. But it wasn’t just anyone.

  It was a girl.

  The girl.

  The same girl I’d bumped into at Starbucks.

  I shook my head. What were the chances? Fate didn’t always work that way. Not for me anyway. I stayed a few feet back and watched her walk over to her friend as they waited for Axel to join them. She had the same red hair, but it was down in wild curls. She had the same frame as the girl at Starbucks. Lean legs, a tight body, and crimson hair that was red like the rocks in Sedona, Arizona. If only I could get a glimpse of her face.

  Axel squeezed between them and placed his arms around their shoulders. My thoughts changed when he leaned in and kissed her lips. If she was with him, I had to respect that. Fate wasn’t on my side.

  Axel hadn’t said anything about being serious with anyone, but it’s not like we ever talked about anything other than music. His passion for music was more than anyone I’d ever met before. For me, there had to be a muse, a reason, some kind of pain or struggle.

  “Yo,” Pete shouted for me. I walked to his van and forced the redhead out of my thoughts. I didn’t want Axel’s girlfriend to be the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about for the past four hours.

  “What’s up?” I pounded his fist.

  “Nervous?” He chuckled and shook his shoulders. From the look of it, he was, so I lied.

  “What’s the worst that can happen?” Of course I was nervous. Who wouldn’t be? Being on stage alone was nerve-racking, and being on stage with a new band was insane, but I didn’t want the guys knowing how freaked out I was. I had to play it cool.

  His eyes narrowed. “We suck and never go any further than performing at Yorks because Axel knows the owner.”

  I chuckled. I could tell from Pete’s response he was anxious as well. It was time to suck it up and be a leader. “How about we focus on not sucking so we can get some gigs somewhere else?”

  “Sounds like a plan, man.” Pete walked around the van and pulled his drum set out of the back. “Let’s do this.”

  It was show time. Now if only my palms would stop sweating so I could hold my guitar once I stepped on stage.

  Our first live performance was only minutes away.

  Sure, it was at a hole in the wall bar, but I’d treat it as if we were about to rock out at Madison Square Garden. Gandhi said ‘be the change you want to see in the world’. If I saw this performance as a sold out arena, then maybe one day I’d be there. I’d let my nerves fuel my music tonight.

  Backstage, Axel paced, Pete twirled his drumsticks around hi
s finger, Harry gawked over any girl who passed by, and I repeated the lyrics over and over as the crazy beats of Flagplole’s performance echoed around us. We were up after they finished and the crowd seemed to be hyped for their music. I wasn’t going to let it affect me, though. My heart was racing, pulse hammering in my ears. This was our chance.

  The emcee took the mic and tapped on it, the crowd instantly going silent. ”All right everyone, let’s give a big welcome to Elephant Room!”

  We stepped out onto the stage and every single part of me calmed. The fear vanished. The nerves had dissipated. This was home. This was my comfort zone. This was where I always belonged.

  Loud cheers erupted from the corner of the bar, and I wrapped my fingers around the mic, buzzing with excitement as I shouted, “How’s everyone doing tonight?” I glanced around the room, trying to spot the redhead, but the light was too bright on my eyes to make out any faces beyond the front row.

  “We’re Elephant Room, and tonight we have some special songs for you.”

  Axel smacked his drumsticks together, and Pete dropped the first riff. I gripped the mic tighter, closed my eyes, and let the music come from my soul.

  3

  EMILIA

  “They’re really good,” Leslie shouted.

  I couldn't speak.

  I was unable to utter a sound because I was captivated by his voice.

  According to Axel, this was their first time performing as a band, but the way they rocked out, you’d never know. Pete was the lead guitarist and backup singer—Axel had introduced me to him in the common hall. I had met Harry, the bass player, a bunch of times, he and Leslie had a thing. But the singer … him … he stole the show with his voice.

  Any chance I had of removing him from my mind had gone to shit. I didn't want to walk in my mother’s footsteps, but that didn't stop me from wanting him any less. His voice lulled me, coiled around my body and held my attention through each melody.

  It was only for one night.

  He was born to be on stage. The way he got the crowd involved wasn’t something you could teach a person, it had to be buried deep inside you. He took his time, singing and moving around the stage to jam with the other guys. He had a sound the media would love, he could sing live and hold a note, and …

  Well, he was fucking hot.

  Thirty minutes and six songs later, Elephant Room said goodbye to their screaming fans and left the stage. My throat ached from yelling and cheering. The house deejay began spinning his mixed tracks and my mind raced. Axel would come find us, and he would want to know what I thought about his performance, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Starbucks-sexy-singer guy to even notice him playing.

  Still standing on the picnic table, I spotted them headed towards us from behind the stage. Leslie tugged on my hand, drawing my focus to her. “You okay? Are you fucked up already?”

  I didn’t want to admit what I was thinking, so I jumped off the table and landed next to her. “Who’s that?” I pouted behind Leslie and drew her focus from me. Axel had his arm around a lanky bleach blonde girl. She wore a white mini skirt, high strappy sandals and a tube top that pushed her breasts together. I’d seen her here plenty of times, but we’d never actually met. She was in a different guy’s arms every night. “That’s Back Alley Sally. The bar groupie you can usually find in the back alley fucking whoever was just on stage. And by the looks of it, Axel is her next target.”

  I watched as Axel led her towards us. My heart began to race and my mouth grew dry as I noticed he had his arm wrapped around Monica.

  Why did it feel as though I had been punched in the gut?

  My eyes darted towards our wooden table. I located my lukewarm bottle of beer and chugged it. The hops tingled at the back of my throat. I squeezed the empty glass bottle to calm my nerves.

  “So?” Axel’s voice boomed over the noise. “What did you think?”

  “Y-You were great!” My voice seemed shaky. My gaze locked with Axel’s. “You guys were really awesome.”

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed Monica drape her arms around his neck. I didn’t understand why it bothered me. There were plenty of nights when Monica’s moaning kept us all up, and the morning walks of shame seemed endless. So why was I surprised she’d hopped on the finest piece of ass in this club? And who was I to claim him as mine? I had nothing with him. I didn’t even know his freaking name.

  “Thanks to Weston.” Axel raised his free hand and grasped his shoulder. Our eyes locked and my anger with Monica vanished.

  Weston.

  “He was a natural up there,” Axel continued.

  I pulled away from his gaze and looked over at Leslie to distract me, but she had drifted into a conversation with Harry.

  “Axel?” Sally dragged out his name like a child who was about to pout. She lifted up on her toes and whispered something in his ear. A lopsided grin spread across his face; he pulled her close and whispered something in her ear. Sally giggled and began to walk towards the exit sign. Axel winked at me and mouthed, I’ll be right back. I shook my head and giggled at him.

  My back rested against the table. Scraping the label from my empty beer bottle with my polished purple fingernail, I contemplated my next move. Why the heck was I worried about him? He had Monica to keep him occupied.

  I set my empty bottle on the table and walked over to Leslie. “Come on. Let’s go get some drinks.” The buzz I had prior to them being on stage had vanished.

  “No way!” Harry rested his hands on my shoulders. “Beers are on me tonight. I’ll go grab us some pitchers.” He took Leslie’s hands and pulled her towards him. They had a weird relationship. She was his girl when it was convenient for him, though she didn't seem to mind while she was drunk. However, the following mornings usually consisted of heartache and tears.

  My heart began to beat louder than the blasting speaker. He was still behind me. Inhaling the stale smoke from the fog machine and sweaty air, I twirled around. To my surprise, Monica was no longer hanging all over him. She and Kate had disappeared—probably to the bathroom, and he was staring at me with his stormy eyes.

  A bead of sweat from my neck dripped down my spine, and it felt like an ice chip melting in the process. I was suddenly parched, and my mind screamed that only he would quench my thirst. My tongue ran across my lips.

  “Emilia, right?” My name on his tongue caused the goose bumps on my skin to rise.

  “Weston.” His name felt like silk between my lips. He took a step forward, closing the gap between us. I remembered how my skin electrified when I touched his hand. “You were really good—”

  “West!”

  My body was shoved into the table when a platinum blonde sashayed passed me. Had Hugh Hefner lost one of his bunnies? Her long hot pink acrylic nails ran down his chest and he chuckled at something she said.

  Minutes prior he had Monica at his fingertips, and now her.

  Anger.

  Hatred.

  Disappointment.

  Less than five minutes ago my friend was in his arms and now a new girl had taken her place. Groupies were like fruit flies. You could swat them away, but there would always be another one.

  Damn musicians.

  “Sorry about that.” He nodded towards the bunny who was now walking away. I shook my head in disbelief, and a grin grew on his face. “What?”

  “Strike two!” I said to him in disgust. He was a musician—strike one—and a player—strike two. There was no way I was going anywhere near that.

  “Two already?” He held two fingers to his chest and looked at me with a sly smile.

  I couldn’t hold my tongue. “Is it safe to assume Monica’s perfume is still lingering around you?” My arms crossed over my chest. “And that Baby, Honey, Sugar or whatever her name was, is simply filling in until Monica gets back?”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “You shouldn’t assume.”

  “Whatever.”

  Harry and the gang returned with the beer. I gr
asped the handle of a pitcher and filled a cup. Chugging the crisp beer until it hurt, I looked over at Leslie. “I want to dance. Wanna come?” She nodded eagerly.

  I passed in front of Weston with my head held high, refusing to even glance at him. Harry, Pete, and Kate joined us on the dance floor. Leslie handed me a drink every time mine was empty. I was drinking my feelings, but I didn’t care. Every time I looked over at our table, his eyes were on me and Monica was on him. I watched as she moved from his lap to his side, to finally sitting on the table and rubbing his back. I was green with envy, but I couldn’t let my jealousy show. I tossed back a shot Pete handed me and bounced my head to the beat.

  Tomorrow he would be nothing but a memory.

  4

  WESTON

  Strike two.

  I was about to strike out with Emilia, and I didn’t have a clue as to why. Her face changed and she pursed her lips and squinted at me. When Jessica walked away, she chewed me out about Monica before storming off. Girls. I would never understand them, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try to find out everything I could about Emilia. There was something there that kept pulling my gaze towards her. Things I couldn’t get out of my mind even if I wanted to. And believe me, I had tried to.

  The way she danced like she was the only person in the room, and the way she smiled when no one was looking. And not only was she absolutely gorgeous with her slim face and prominent cheeks, but she had a button nose and succulent lips that desperately begged to be kissed.

  I glanced down at my warm beer. What the hell am I drinking that has me fawning over her? This wasn’t me. Especially when she had blatantly turned me down. But that’s exactly what drew me in. She wasn’t like most girls. There was no comparison. Unlike Monica, who would do anything I asked, Emilia refused to even look in my direction. She made me work for every glance and every word. And when I did catch her eyes, it was like she was looking through me.