Marked By Fire (Dragons Of The Darkblood Secret Society Book 2)

by Meg Ripley

  “We’ve got another two or three songs,” Dan said. “And then we can send the first rough crop to the label.” I looked at Alex for a moment, safely concealed by my drum kit.

  “Let’s get down to it, then,” I said, taking a deep breath and stretching my shoulders a bit. At least the little jam session had been fun.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I saw Alex leaving the studio during the break and decided it was just as good a time as any to have the talk with him. I didn’t want to do it; I didn’t even think that it would go particularly well. But I might as well get it over with, I figured--there didn’t seem to be a good time until after the album came out to do it, and then it would be beside the point.

  “Yo--Lex,” I called out, following him out of the studio. “Wait up.” He turned around and raised an eyebrow at me, but stopped.

  “What’s up?”

  “I wanna talk to you for a second,” I told him. Alex kept looking at me for a moment and let me come towards him, looking skeptical, but not pissed.

  “It’s about her, isn’t it?” Alex cracked the knuckles on his right hand and leaned against Jules’ car.

  “If by her you mean my girlfriend, yeah,” I said.

  “She’s after you to do a photoshoot, isn’t she?” I counted to five mentally.

  “Actually, I’m pushing that idea,” I told him. “Dan and Nick are down for it, Jules is indifferent, but she thought I should get your approval before I suggested it to the label or to Ron.”

  “She’s a decent photographer,” Alex said, moving to his other hand to crack the knuckles there, too. “But don’t be surprised if she dumps you as soon as she gets the score.” I rolled my eyes.

  “You know, when you found Mary I was happy for you,” I pointed out. “I have been happy for just about every member of this fucking band finding women who like them.”

  “Except Dan,” Alex countered.

  “Do you really care about that? It’s resolved.”

  “It threw off our schedule by months,” Alex said.

  “So, you’re still blaming me even though we’ve turned the corner and are putting out a better album as a result.”

  “I’m saying that you’re being a fucking idiot,” Alex said. “She’s using you.”

  “So you keep saying.” I sighed. “Look--if she’s using me and you’re right about it, then you get to be big old Mister-Fucking-Right and I’ll take my lumps like the damned chump I’ll be,” I said. “But it pisses me the fuck off because it looks more like you can’t deal with me having something of my own for once.”

  “Everyone in the band has something of their own,” Alex said, rolling his eyes. “That’s not the fucking problem. The fucking problem is that you’re not paying attention.”

  “I’m not?” I waved towards the studio we’d just walked out of. “I’m working as hard as anyone else in the band, asshole. I’m laying my tracks down, doing my work. I’m more on top of things than I was two months ago, that’s for damned sure.”

  “And you’re so wrapped up with her pussy that you don’t care whether she’s actually with you because she wants to be with you or because she wants to get some career action and then move on,” Alex insisted. “And then when she does dump you because she’s got what she wanted, you’re going to act like an asshole again, and who even knows whether it’ll be while we’re trying to finish the album or trying to promote it or touring for it--any of those times you going all to shit again would fuck everything up.”

  “Oh, right, because I’m such a fucking wimp that losing a girl is going to derail me again,” I said, shaking my head. “Look, I wanted to talk to you because Nick and Jules thought it was a good idea, and because Allie is at least honest enough to not want to push any kind of professional involvement without you being okay with her.”

  “You’ve done it,” Alex said, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, what now?”

  “Now you either decide if you’re okay enough with her taking some pictures of us so we can promote our own fucking album, or you decide you’re going to be a petty fucking asshole and shit all over the best thing that’s happened to me in over a year.”

  “Invite her to take pictures,” Alex said. “I don’t really care. But you better fucking promise me that when she ditches you, you’re still going to be capable of doing your goddamn job.”

  “You know,” I said, taking a quick breath and shaking my head slowly, “this band used to be about us hanging out. Having a good time together. Being fucking friends in a group.”

  “That went out the window when we started to let management decide things for us,” Alex said.

  “Why does it have to?” I held his gaze for a minute. “I mean yeah, we can let Ron and the label decide some things--that’s what the fuck they’re there for. The goal was to make our lives easier, to let us focus on the fucking music. All we’ve done is become some fucking hit factory.”

  “Don’t like it? This is what success as a band is,” Alex said.

  “No, this is what selling out is,” I countered. “We don’t have to be businessmen to make this work. We can be goddamned friends. We used to be able to do that.”

  “As your friend, I’m worried that you’re going to lose your fucking mind if it turns out that Allie is using you,” Alex said. “As the lead singer of your band, as one of the guys working with you, I’m worried that you losing your fucking mind is going to cost all of us money.”

  “I’m worried that if we can’t fucking exist as friends anymore without ripping each other’s asses over the choices we make, we’re not going to be a fucking band anymore,” I told Alex. “Everything is like this, any time there’s any little shake-up. Someone gets pissy and everyone either is for or against and we sit around in stalemate for fucking weeks until someone breaks.” I shook my head again. “And you’re pitching your own bitchfest over me dating someone and trying to dress it up as being worried about me.” I scrubbed at my face with my hands. “Look--this was a mistake. Forget I said anything.”

  “It wasn’t a mistake,” Alex said quietly. “Let’s talk about this again when we’re not on break.”

  “We’re not in the studio that much longer,” I pointed out.

  “If you want her to come in and take some shots, invite her,” Alex said. “I’ll be pleasant to her.”

  “But you don’t like her or trust her,” I said.

  “I don’t have to like her or trust her to be pleasant to her,” Alex said, smiling slightly. “I don’t like or trust our A&R guy at the label, and he doesn’t even know it.” I laughed.

  “Fifty bucks says he does,” I countered. “But he’s A&R--it’s probably pretty rare that any artists like or trust him.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “You’re sure this isn’t going to be a shit show?” Allie had her camera around her neck; she’d ridden out to the studio with me, and we’d parked a minute before.

  “Alex says he’ll be pleasant to you,” I told her. I’d told her more or less about the conversation, about how Alex didn’t like or trust her--but was willing to basically go along to get along. She hadn’t been all that enthused, and when she’d agreed to come along anyway I had to admit that there was something like an alarm bell in my brain telling me it was another sign that Alex was right--but she’d agreed to come along.

  “I want the shots to be as candid as possible,” Allie said, checking her equipment. “I guess I’ll just hang around, and wait for things to kind of settle in.”

  “Probably best,” I said, steeling myself for the initial drama. I could count on Dan and Nick to be solid. I could probably count on Jules to be charming in his usual snarky, sarcastic way. I didn’t know what Alex would do. “We’ve got a long day of tracking ahead of us--trying to wrap things up as much as possible,” I added. “If you need to head out, you can use the car--I’ll catch a ride home with Nick.”

  “If you can hang for the whole day, I can,” Allie said, smiling at me. “As long as
we don’t end up with the cops getting called, I’m in.” I laughed.

  I definitely steeled myself a bit when we went into the studio, expecting at least some kind of tension from Alex’s quarter; but at first at least, Allie seemed content to hang out a bit, to stay at the fringes of what was going on as we sat in the control room and talked to Jack about the day’s work, as we discussed what we were going to do, what we wanted to go back to and tweak. Alex said hello to Allie and then mostly ignored her. Allie kept the camera around her neck, but she didn’t take pictures, for the first thirty minutes--then for the first hour. By the time she actually started taking pictures, I barely even noticed that she was doing it.

  Of course, I thought to myself; that had been her plan all along. I’d seen her work this way before, keeping the camera on her but not using it, waiting and waiting until people started to relax and stopped thinking about the camera being there at all. Then, when she started taking pictures, nobody really noticed; even Alex didn’t seem to particularly see that Allie was snapping the occasional picture, moving from the live room to the control room to one of the individual spaces as her interest carried her around. I tried not to feel on edge, tried not to keep waiting for something to happen between her and Alex, but I couldn’t help wondering just how well my friend was going to be able to keep with his promise to be pleasant to her.

  “This is actually kind of fun,” Nick said during one of the breaks. “It’s like when Liv went on tour with us, except I’m not constantly distracted by how much I wish I was having sex.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Does it count as sexual harassment if it’s a girlfriend of the band being harassed?” Jules smirked.

  “I’ve heard worse,” Allie said with a shrug, taking a sip of the beer Dan had gotten for her.

  “You’ve hung out backstage at festivals and shit,” Nick pointed out. “I’m sure you’ve seen worse.”

  “Not everyone thinks it’s a good idea to fuck their girlfriend in a supply closet, Nick,” Dan said.

  “How you managed to avoid getting chemical burns is still beyond me,” Alex added.

  “Let’s go to lunch,” Jack suggested from the control panel. “I need to work on some things here anyway.”

  “I’m game,” I said. “Fucking starving.” We’d been working for hours at that point; we had hours more to go, but all of us were starting to get that feeling of restlessness that came along with being bored and hungry.

  We cleared out of the control room and Allie said she wanted to put some things away in the car to avoid getting them messed up. I went into the back area to make a phone call to my mom; I told Jules and Nick that Allie and I would catch up with them at Clive’s. I had started to relax a little, to think that at least nothing was going to go drastically wrong during the session. I told my mom that I was going to be able to go to my brother’s birthday in a couple of weeks, and promised that I’d have lunch with her that weekend. “Look--if I don’t go soon, Allie is going to kill me,” I said, when it looked like Mom was going to go on for another hour.

  “Bring her with you for lunch this weekend,” she said.

  “I’ll do that,” I told her. “Love you.”

  “Love you too, Marky,” Mom said, and before she could think to start up some new topic of conversation I said goodbye. I’d been on the phone maybe fifteen minutes at the most.

  I made sure I had my wallet and my keys and at least half a pack of cigs in my pockets and headed out of the studio, looking around for Allie. I walked towards my car, thinking that she was probably there, having a cigarette and maybe talking to a client. Maybe Alex will warm up to her. Maybe he’ll stop being such a pretentious all-knowing asshole, and things will work out. I’d take her to lunch with my mom, and she’d go to my brother’s birthday party with me, and it’d be good.

  I was thinking that, and picturing it in my head, and I saw two people standing over by where Alex had parked; they were standing too close together for it to be a simple conversation. I recognized Alex first and thought to myself that maybe the reason for his improvement in mood was that he knew he was going to be seeing Mary. I almost called out to say hello to Alex’s girlfriend, but then I stopped dead in my tracks. Right there, next to his car, I saw Alex kissing Allie.

  “What the fuck! What the hell--You--What the fuck?” Alex and Allie parted and Allie looked at me in shock, and opened her mouth to say something. Whatever it was that had frozen me in my tracks melted like ice on a charcoal grill and I turned around and walked away. I somehow managed to make it to my car, find my keys in my pocket and get them out.

  “Mark--Mark, wait!” Alex wasn’t saying anything, and I thought angrily to myself that it was no wonder. I unlocked my car and climbed into the driver’s seat, getting the key in the ignition somehow and starting the engine. I pulled out of the parking space with my wheels squeaking on the asphalt and didn’t even look to see if Allie was close, if Alex was coming after me with her. I turned the car towards the road and left the lot. Suddenly I wasn’t even a little hungry anymore. Just the thought of telling Jules and Nick about what had happened turned my stomach, and I decided I was done--for the day, maybe for good.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I heard my phone buzzing, but I didn’t even look at it. It was either one of the guys in the band, Ron, or Allie--and I didn’t want to talk to any of them. It had been a day since I’d left the studio, since I’d seen Alex and Allie practically making out next to Alex’s car right outside of the building. I hadn’t gone back to the studio after the lunch break; instead I’d gone straight home and found the bottle of Jack on top of the fridge and crawled into it.

  I’d forgotten to forget about Allie’s stuff in my car; I knew it was there and there was a part of me that insisted that if nothing else I needed to do the mature thing and get it back to her, but I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t ready for anything but more booze when I got up the next day. My head had been throbbing as if there was a fucking hurricane spinning inside of it, my mouth had tasted like garbage water, and my stomach had felt like it would crawl right out of me if it got half a chance.

  I walked away from the buzzing phone near my bed and through the living room into the kitchen. Part of me wanted to just start drinking again; but I needed to take care of my hangover first. I slumped into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, pressing it against the lever on the water dispenser on my fridge while I yawned and scrubbed at my face. I pressed the on button for the Keurig machine--my mom had gotten it for me a year before, and it sat right next to the normal coffee pot, as an “in between” for times when I didn’t want to make a full batch of coffee--and waited for it to heat up. I drank down the water, burped, and filled the glass again.

  By the time I had a cup of coffee in my hand and I was walking into the living room again, trying to decide what to do with myself--the studio was fucking out--I heard a knock at the door. “Fuck that noise,” I muttered, sipping my coffee. I didn’t even care who it was: Jehovah’s Witness, building manager, one of the other guys in the band, Allie, my own brother. I didn’t want to talk to anyone; I didn’t want to see anyone. I’ll fucking mail her the gear, I thought, remembering Allie’s stuff in my car again.

  The knocking started up again, louder. “Mark! Come on.” It sounded like one of the guys, but through the door I couldn’t tell specifically who. Knocking again, and I drank down about a third of my coffee, not even really caring that it was too hot for that kind of gulping. “Mark!”

  “Come on, asshole, open the door!” I glanced in the direction of the door and glared.

  “Go the fuck away!” I set down my cup of coffee and combed my fingers through my hair. The situation with Allie was settled--more or less. I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do about the band. Fuck ‘em. Alex, at least, I could obviously do without. That asshole was dead to me. But Dan, Jules, Nick? Did they deserve for the band to go up in flames? Why would it be my fault the band goes up in flames becaus
e of something Alex fucking did? It wouldn’t be fair but I knew that that would be the way that Alex would try and spin it. Even if the rest of the band knew better, everyone in the scene would blame me. Fucking shithead.

  “Mark, if you don’t let us in, we’re going to tell the building manager you threatened to kill yourself.” At that point I knew it was at least two people: Nick and Dan. I sighed; there were rules about shit like that, laws and regulations. If they told the building manager I’d threatened to kill myself, he’d have to let them into my unit--maybe even call the cops.

  I got up and walked to the door. I unlocked the deadbolt, then the knob lock, and opened the door and walked back to the couch, not even looking to see if either of my two friends and band mates came into the apartment. Of course, they did, and as soon as I sat down and picked up my coffee, they were closing the door behind them and making themselves comfortable.

  “So, what the fuck happened?” Dan held my gaze.

  “Alex won’t say anything, Allie was in tears but we couldn’t get anything coherent out of her, and you won’t answer your fucking phone,” Nick said.

  “What happened is that I walked out of the studio to see Alex making out with Allie by his car,” I told them. “I decided that going the fuck home was better than getting arrested for murder.” Nick and Dan looked at each other and then at me again.

  “Are you serious?” I nodded.

  “Dead fucking serious,” I said.

  “About the murder thing or about finding them together?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Both,” I told Nick.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Dan shook his head. “Does Mary know?”

  “I texted her last night,” I said, remembering that detail. I cringed as I remembered what I’d specifically texted her the night before. Since your boyfriend likes making out with my girlfriend, why don’t we up the ante and fuck each other? In fairness to me, I’d had about a third of a bottle of Jack at that point.