by Bryce Oakley
Midnight
Bryce Oakley
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Thank you!
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Bryce Oakley
Copyright © 2019 by Bryce Oakley
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information, contact [email protected].
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used for fictional purposes. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Edited by Amanda Laufhutte
Prologue
New Year's Eve
Zoey
Zoey stared in the mirror of the bathroom, fixing her hair. Her classic twist had started to come loose, and she held two bobby pins in her mouth as she finagled a third back into place.
Someone knocked on the door. Her eyes flicked to the door in the reflection of the mirror.
"Jus' a 'inute," Zoey called out, unable to open her mouth with the bobby pins in her teeth.
The knocking continued. Couldn't they tell the door was locked, signaling someone was inside? Wasn't that common sense?
She spit out the pins in frustration. "Fucking hold the fuck on," she yelled.
The knocking stopped immediately.
She sighed as she picked up the pins again to finish twisting them into place.
Sure, she had made the guest list of Madonna's New Year's Eve bash, one of the most exclusive parties in LA, but she supposed they didn't include an intelligence screening test at the door for any other guests.
She had forced herself to come to the party stag, mostly because both Billie and Domino were loved up, but even Mego had plans with a special someone. Zoey had always felt a bit uncomfortable going solo to social events, but with the increase in invites, she knew she couldn't convince her inner circle to go to every single one of them. Especially now that her wild child best friend, Domino, had settled down and was — to quote — wearing fuzzy slippers and drinking hot toddies at home.
Even Micah, their manager, had plans with her husband.
Ugh, couples.
Zoey cringed, looking in the mirror again.
When had all of her friends turned boring?
The worst part? She didn't even despise any of their partners.
Except Mego's, but only because Meg wouldn't tell her who she was seeing.
And now Zoey was alone at Madonna's New Year's Eve party.
Someone banged on the door again.
She turned, her patience completely gone. She opened the door, standing in the doorway, towering over a very drunk girl who couldn't have been over 18. She was wearing a designer dress that fit strangely around her chest — had she seriously stuffed them with toilet paper? Was this girl even old enough to drive?
"Is the building on fire?" Zoey barked.
The girl rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just move, lady," she said, pushing in past Zoey.
Zoey scoffed, moving into the hallway as the door slammed in her face.
She walked back down the hall of the giant rental space. It was a ballroom decorated in blacks and reds and tulle, like some macabre ballet.
The music was loud with a bass that vibrated her ribs and drowned out all the thoughts in her head. She took a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter was holding and resisted the urge to take her phone out of her purse.
No, she would be present. She would not just retreat to staring mindlessly at social media just because she was in a sour mood.
She knew plenty of people at the party from other parties she’d been to, or from photo shoots or magazine interviews or other designer's shows. She knew almost everyone at the party, excluding the annoying brat who had banged on the door while she was in the bathroom.
She wouldn't dwell and be an asshole simply because she was in a bad mood.
She took a deep breath, tipping the glass and pouring the sweet liquid into her mouth.
Then she placed her empty glass on a tray and grabbed one more full glass, just for good measure.
She set her shoulders, walking into the crowd.
She found a pair of photographers, Julian and Michael, that she had worked with on a shoot for French Vogue, and had spent a good part of the last hour talking about their travels through Russia.
"Your band should tour Russia next year when the new album comes out!" Julian exclaimed. "It's to die for."
"My band is full of outspoken lesbians. I don't think that's going to work out," she shouted over the music, trying not to roll her eyes.
They stared at her with horrified, embarrassed expressions.
"It's okay. Maybe by the time the new album comes out, the world will be a different place," she added, trying to smooth things over.
Michael shook his head. "You mean, never?"
Julian laughed. "Surely you're not still doing the band thing, darling. I thought you were an influencer now," he said. "Didn't—“
Zoey excused herself to grab another drink.
Cool party, Madonna.
She stared into her glass, the thought replaying through her mind.
She was at Madonna's New Year's Eve party. She had to get a grip. Five years ago, she'd have killed to be where she was.
And yet...
When Zoey had joined The Shrikes, she knew that it would change her life. She just didn't know how.
Being the keyboard player for an indie rock band had opened doors that she would have never imagined — she was celebrated as a powerful woman of color, she was on magazine covers, she walked in the Balmain show in Milan... she had begun to live a life that she had never thought possible.
The Shrikes hadn't put out an album in years... mainly because their lead songwriter and bassist, Domino, had a terrible case of writer's block. But a lot of that had changed recently — especially in the past month.
Domino had hit a wall and finally opened up the songwriting process to include the other members of the group. Billie, the lead singer, had always been Domino's co-writer, but she had been busy with other projects for the past few months. Meg, the drummer, and Zoey, had finally begun adding their input to the creative process beyond their own instruments.
It had only been a week or two, but the songs were coming freely and Zoey felt more creatively alive than ever. She loved writing, especially lyrically.
The Shrikes would begin to record their album soon, and after that whirlwind, they'd begin promotions, then go on tour — possibly by late summer. If they finished recording the album by February, Micah, their agent, had even suggested that the album could drop as soon as July, depending on how quickly the tracks could be mastered.
Zoey was on top of the world, had over a million Instagram followers, she knew plenty of the right people, and yet...
She shouldn't take such an exciting time for granted, and yet...
She was lonely as hell.
She stood beside a champagne fountain, tucked in a darkened corner, staring up at the glistening light through the liquid.
; "Kind of excessive," someone said from beside her.
She glanced sideways to see that it was Pia Marino, a talk show host and comedian that she had met briefly through other friends. Sabrina, a professional organizer friend, was about to do a guest segment on Pia's show the following week, and Vero De Luca, Billie's girlfriend, had come out on the show just a few months before.
"I mean, it's not even drinkable," Pia said, crossing her arms as she watched the bubbles.
"I'm not above dunking my head under it," Zoey said with a wink.
"Need a boost?" Pia said, motioning as though she could hold Zoey's foot in her hands to give her leverage.
Zoey grinned. "I'm a huge fan, by the way. I don't know if you remember me, but—"
Pia shook her head. "Zoey McCarren. You're the keyboardist for my favorite band," she said.
Zoey raised her eyebrows. "Your favorite band? High praise," she said.
"Heart's Content got me through a tough spot," Pia said, shoving her hands in her pockets.
Zoey looked her over. Pia was wearing a casual suit, with loose-fitting pants, an open vest over a button-up, and a blazer. She looked positively handsome. Zoey paused for one moment, wondering if it was weird to ask Pia what brand she was wearing.
"Well, I'm glad we could help," Zoey said, smiling. "Though, I wouldn't take someone so funny for having tough spots."
Pia raised an eyebrow. Her short hair was messy, but her features were naturally flawless. Besides the tiny hint of lines near the corners of her eyes, Zoey wouldn’t have been able to discern her age, which she knew was 40-something. Her dark eyes peeked out from dark rim glasses.
"Sorry, that was..." Zoey shook her head, embarrassment burning her cheeks.
"No, I understand. I'm funny and people think I'm all games," Pia said, shrugging. Judging by how she didn’t seem to tense up, Zoey guessed it was a common feeling.
"We're about to start recording a new album," Zoey said, quickly changing the subject.
"So I'd heard," Pia said, grinning. "Want to release the first single on my show first?"
Zoey blinked. "That's really a question for my manager, but if it were up to me, the answer is absolutely yes," she said, a bit lost for words.
"Well, until then, we'll just have to be mutual fans of each other," Pia said with a sly grin, reaching forward to give her arm a light touch.
Something inside of Zoey's chest did a flip in excitement.
Whoa, what was that? She wasn't a lesbian. She wasn't even bisexual. She was the resident straight girl in an all-lesbian band. It was kind of her schtick.
But something about Pia was completely unnerving her. In a good way.
Pia grabbed two drinks off of a tray and handed one to Zoey. "It'd be a shame to mess up your hair just for bubbles," she said.
"My stylist would kill me," Zoey laughed, then realized how absurd that sounded.
Pia didn't bat an eye at the remark though.
"So, tell me something about the album that no one knows yet," Pia said lightly. "You know, to indulge my fangirl side."
Zoey tilted her head, considering. "So far, I co-wrote four of the songs, and I completely wrote the lyrics for two of the songs," she bragged shamelessly. She held up a pair of crossed fingers. "Here's hoping they make it on the final album after we record them."
Pia looked surprised. "I thought Domino and Billie Rush wrote all of your songs."
"We're doing something different for this record," Zoey said, sipping her drink.
"Are you any good?" Pia asked, and something in her expression made Zoey wonder what exactly she meant.
"Well, I like to think so," Zoey said.
It was surreal. Pia was flirting with her? Was Pia just a flirt? She racked her brain, trying to think of other stories of Pia Marino being a seductress.
"Your turn," Zoey said, looking at her pointedly.
"For?" Pia asked.
"For some insider info. Tell me about a surprise upcoming guest," Zoey asked.
"Obama," Pia answered quickly.
Zoey rolled her eyes. "You two are good friends. That's no surprise. Tell me something else," she continued.
"It may not be a surprise, but I'm in talks to interview a guest who I'm completely terrified of," Pia said, raising one brow. "It might not happen for a while, but..." She wiped her lower lip with her thumb.
Zoey's mouth went completely dry, watching the innocent act turn so intimate and appealing in front of her. "Go on," she said, almost breathless.
"Well, why don't you guess?" Pia said.
Zoey grinned, surprised. "Okay," she said slowly, pressing her lips together as she thought. "Who could terrify the almighty Pia? “Are they in politics?" She asked.
Pia shook her head.
"Is it an actor?" Zoey asked.
"Nope," Pia said, shaking her head again.
"Some kind of child YouTube star?" Zoey lifted her shoulders, running out of categories.
Pia shook her head.
"I'm kind of at a loss here," Zoey said, furrowing her brow in confusion.
Pia shrugged. "Guess you'll have to wait to see," she said.
"That's not fair," Zoey joked. "I told you my secret."
"Is that your secret?" Pia asked, her gaze flitting from Zoey's eyes to her mouth.
It felt as though all of the air had sucked out of the room.
Pia Marino was flirting with her.
And she was totally enjoying every second of it.
She smiled. "It's one of them," she said, raising her glass.
Pia sipped from her own.
The lights In the room suddenly began strobing. Madonna was on stage, yelling into a microphone. A giant clock on a screen showed ten seconds.
"Ten!" Everyone around them yelled.
"Then, let's have our own secret," Pia said.
"Nine!"
"Our own secret?" Zoey asked.
"Eight!"
They were yelling now over the crowd, leaning into one another to be heard.
Zoey glanced around at the entire room, their glasses raised.
"Seven!"
"Can you keep a secret, Zoey?" Pia said, her body so close that Zoey could feel her leg pressed against her.
In the crowded room next to a fifteen foot champagne fountain, they were virtually invisible.
"Six!"
Zoey nodded, looking down, feeling suddenly shy.
"Five!"
Pia reached, lifting Zoey's chin with two fingers.
"Four!"
Oh God, Pia was going to kiss her.
"Three!"
And Zoey wanted her to.
"Two!"
Zoey's eyes searched Pia's. She was both certain and confused at the same time.
"One!"
Pia leaned in, pressing her lips gently to Zoey's at first. Zoey's head swirled as she leaned into the kiss, her lips softening, yielding to Pia's dominance. Pia's lips parted, her hand weaving into Zoey's hair as she held her close.
Zoey wound her arms around Pia's shoulders, the champagne glass still in her hand.
The combination of bubbly and the kiss made her feel as though she was floating. Her stomach clenched in excitement and her body longed to be pressed against Pia's, closing any gap between them.
Pia took Zoey's lower lip between her teeth, nipping her ever-so-slightly.
Zoey grinned, deepening the kiss.
All around them, people cheered, Auld Lang Syne played from a speaker — was Madonna cry-singing? — and yet Zoey felt miles away from all of it.
And then, just as suddenly as it had started, Pia took a step back.
She smiled at Zoey and then lifted a finger to her lips, as though shushing her.
Zoey stood with her jaw slack, stunned into silence and paralysis, as Pia winked and then melted into the crowd around her.
A secret of their own.
Chapter One
February
Zoey
Zoey laid back on the sofa, throwing h
er arms over her face. They had been in the studio for nearly thirteen hours straight trying to nail down the multiple tracks for one song — they were going on take five thousand.
"Cut. Okay, let's start that back, Meg," Collins, the producer said quickly, hitting buttons on both the soundboard and her computer.
Domino, her bandmate, groaned from somewhere next to her and Zoey reached out blindly, ruffling Dom's short hair.
Billie, their lead singer, stood somewhere nearby, undoubtedly with crossed arms and a tapping toe, watching Meg intensely. Billie had always been a basketcase during recording sessions, and this album was proving to be no different.
The door to the sitting area opened. Zoey turned to see who was interrupting them. Long, elegantly straightened dark hair gave away the culprit: Vero De Luca, Billie's girlfriend.
Zoey glanced to see that Billie still had her back to the door, watching Meg, who was nailing take after take, but Collins was keeping none of them.
"I brought reserves," she whispered. "Billie said no to cocaine, so I brought the next best thing."
"Whiskey?" Domino asked hopefully.
Vero laughed. "Don't you wish," she said, holding up a gigantic coffee carafe in one hand and a six-pack of energy drinks in the other.
"You are a goddess," Zoey said, reaching toward her without standing up.
She had been hesitant at first when Billie started dating Vero. In fact, she had accidentally caused a breakup between them by encouraging Vero's ex-girlfriend to try to win her back. The lesbian world was much too small.
They had been a band since college, but Zoey was still navigating the perils and pitfalls of queer life. She knew much more about The L Word, Tegan and Sara, and Kristen Stewart’s love life than most lesbians she knew.
As the token straight woman in The Shrikes, she was often in a supporting role. And that was fine. She was happy to be an ally to her gay friends. As the biological daughter of a black woman and a Filipino father, she understood "otherness" unlike most.
