by M Dauphin
There probably wasn’t a call coming in. I sigh and walk to my closet, tapping my lip as I peruse my options.
Picking out a pair of skinny jeans that hug my curves, but still leave room for my prosthetic without people knowing it’s there, I grab a pair of flats before heading to the closet to find a suitable shirt.
I want him to notice me, definitely. I want him to see me as beautiful and sexy, and the t-shirts that I’ve been sporting lately are doing nothing to show off my figure.
I want to wow him.
Grabbing a dark green v-neck tank, I opt to leave my hair down and throw on a quick layer of mascara and eyeliner to make the natural baby blues pop just a little more.
With a half hour left before Braydon’s scheduled to pick me up, I check my emails once more just out of habit to see if any new job sites posted any openings.
Not to any surprise, there’s nothing new from what I checked a few hours ago, but I do have a new email from Alden about tomorrow’s interview. He wants me to come an hour early, so we can get lunch, before I go in to meet with the other investors of the company. A little strange, but we did go to school together. He probably just wants to catch up before we get down to business.
After I get my massive purse contents downsized to a small clutch, I only have a minute before Braydon’s supposed to be here to pick me up. Throwing on some lip-gloss, I fix my pant leg to make sure you can’t see anything out of the ordinary on my leg, and then hear his tapping on the door. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves, as this is the first real time we’ve been out together as a couple, or whatever it is that we are. When I reach the door, I know my hands are shaking but there’s nothing else I can do to calm them short of a few shots of vodka… and that can come later tonight.
“Holy hell.” The way he groans as soon as his eyes hit me make me much happier than I’m letting on.
“Ready?” I smile, taking his hand, but he won’t budge from his spot.
“Are you sure that shirt is street legal?” He grins, eyeing my cleavage. Thanks to the pushup bra, I look like I’m about three sizes bigger than normal tonight. Grinning, I shimmy a little and let him see the goods in action, enjoying the way he looks like he’s about ready to pounce on me, then push him out to the hallway and lock the door behind me.
“I’ve never heard of clothing not being street legal, Bray. It’s fine.” Grinning, I squeeze his hand and pull him down the hallway to the door.
Hearing him laugh and groan behind me, his hand goes to my ass as soon as I make it to the door. Without words, his lips hit my neck and I stall opening the door.
“Jesus, Alexis,” he mutters into my neck. “So damn sexy, and you don’t even know it.”
Rolling my eyes at his comment, I know what he’s doing and it’s working. Unfortunately for him, I have more willpower than he thinks, and, if I’m one thing, it’s punctual. Trying to move out of his touch so I’m not trapped between him and the door, I kiss him quickly, then push him out of the way to open the door.
“You can’t be late to your own gig, Bray. Important things are happening tonight.” Walking to his car, he locks the doors so I can’t let myself in. He’s always been weird about this, but he loves to open car doors for me, and I’m honestly surprised he let me open the door to come outside without putting up a fight. He’s very traditional in some ways, and yet completely stubborn and modern in others. I’ve seen the women he’s slept with… there’s nothing traditional about them.
“You look beautiful tonight, Alexis.” Placing his arms on either side of me, he pins me against his car and pushes his lips to mine. With nothing touching but our lips, I hear him groan when I open my mouth and invite him to taste me. He’s the absolute bet kisser ever. Not too wet, not too fast, just enough pressure. Each and every kiss from him makes me wetter than before, and one of these kisses is going to lead to much more, hopefully.
One of them. Not this one.
“Okay, Casanova,” I say, smiling, as I pull away from him. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get to continue this tonight after the show.” I wink at him, and he adjusts himself, before opening my door. I used to be able to slide in all sexy and smooth when getting into any car, but, ever since the accident, it’s not near as smooth or quick. He doesn’t waiver and is completely patient, as I have to help pull my leg in before getting fully situated. Jesus, that’s embarrassing. I know it shouldn’t be, and I know he doesn’t care, but not being normal anymore is really bothering me.
I also know I need to get over it, because this is my new normal.
Braydon holds my hand the entire drive to the bar, but doesn’t say a word. It’s a short drive, considering how long it takes to get to places here in town, and typically he talks my ear off, but I know tonight he’s trying to get in the zone for the show so I don’t push any forced conversation.
When we get there, I make a move to get out of the car but he squeezes my hand and looks over at me, stopping me in my tracks. His eyes show me something I haven’t seen many times from him. A look that tells me he’s feeling way more than he’s letting on.
“Thanks for being here tonight, Al. It means the world to me.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, Bray.”
He leans over and kisses me gently, his hand that’s resting on my thigh squeezes gently before releasing me and getting out of the car. I know better than to open my door on my own because it’ll just make him pouty, so I wait for him to do it for me.
“Thank you,” I say, kissing him again before heading inside. He doesn’t hold my hand on the way in, but I’m trying not to read too much into it. He’s focused and in the zone. I know, if they do well tonight, there’s a high possibility of them getting signed.
Heading over to the bar to grab a beer, I notice an old friend sitting at a table alone and take a deep breath before heading over to her.
“Nicole?” I say, hesitantly, trying to calm my shaking hands and steady my breaths before I chicken out and leave. I haven’t seen her in months… it was about a week before the accident the last time I saw her.
“Oh my god, Alexis! Look at you! It’s been too long!”
Yes, it has. Thanks for checking in on me.
“Yeah, things have been a little, uh… hectic, lately.” I shrug and take a sip of my beer, watching some of the boys start setting up things on the stage. As many times as I’ve watched them play, I’ve never really taken into account how much work goes into it. It’s not just going on stage and playing a few songs then walking away from all of it. It’s hours and hours of practice a week. It’s constantly having the music in your head, and writing down lyrics and chords. Braydon keeps tabs all the time on his iPhone, and notes are constantly being added to keep him on top of things.
One time, when I asked him why he never seems to stop working, he told me it’s ‘because artists brains never really turn off. Creative people don’t have an off switch’, and these last few months have taught me just that. There was one night that he fell asleep on my couch, and didn’t make it back upstairs, but at two in the morning I woke up to him humming and typing as fast as he could on my laptop. He wouldn’t share it with me, but I know he was really onto something, as deep in the zone as he was.
Watching the stage, this song reminds me that I’m actually sitting next to someone and I’m fairly certain she’s been talking this entire time.
Shit.
“I’m sorry, what’d you say?” I smile at her, but I can see the annoyed look on her face. Well, good riddance. Not that I don’t value a good friendship, but she was only there when it was convenient for her… not when I needed her. I met her through the company Lane worked for when we were at a shoot one day, and the three of us hung out occasionally. No sweat off my back if I don’t see her again.
“Alexis!” Mark, a friend of the band’s bass player comes up from behind me and wraps me in his warm hug. I’ve known Mark for years, and he’s always been so kind to me. He’s been super chummy with Teg, the b
ass player for the band for about a year now, and, if I’m not mistaken, I think the two of them have a thing for each other, but neither of them are out of the closet so things could be getting interesting between them soon.
Braydon eyes me from the stage, and his death glare is immediately moved to the man with his arms around me and only relaxes when he realizes it’s Mark. Harmless, carefree, wants to be friends with everyone Mark. His eyes come back to mine, and he smiles and winks before grabbing his guitar and making sure everything is in tune.
By now, the bar is hopping. Each table is full of patrons, and the bar itself is lined with people waiting for drinks. There are a few groups of college-aged kids mingling in the back of the bar and, if they aren’t careful, they’re going to end up on the curb. This is a twenty-one and up bar and from the looks of some of those kids, they may just have turned eighteen.
“You guys ready?!” Gabe yells into the microphone, and a roar erupts from the crowd. I notice, sitting a table towards the back corner, a single man in a suit.
This must be the man Braydon was talking about. The one from the record label, coming to check them out.
“We’ve got some new, very special shit for you assholes tonight, so don’t go anywhere. Grab a drink or two from Stephanie over there at the bar.” He motions to the half-dressed, hot-as-sin chick behind the bar and the men whoop and holler for her when she smiles and waves. I feel a pang of jealousy over her, but push it down best as I can. “We will be back in a couple minutes to start the show!”
There’s a few people whistling, and others clapping around us. Nicole’s moved on to talking to a table of men near us, and Mark and I are left alone at the table for now.
“So, how are things going, Alexis? You back in town for good?” He’s rugged and Italian looking, but has no accent, and I’m fairly certain his parents were born in the Bronx, so I’m not sure where he got his looks from but I’m not complaining. Whoever ends up with him is going to be one lucky person.
“I’m here for now. I think, if things go well, I’ll be here for good, yes, but I can’t promise anything.” He smiles. Taking a swig of my fourth beer of the night, I feel the buzz of the alcohol starting to blur my senses and make my entire body feel warm.
Shit, I need to watch it tonight. I haven’t been drunk since this new addition… or subtraction… from my body, but I’m certain that wobbling drunk on a prosthetic I’m still learning to use isn’t going to look very smooth and classy.
When the bandmates come out, the house lights dim and the colored spots hit the stage from above, illuminating each band member in blue and green lighting.
“Hello, everyone. Thanks for making it to the show tonight. Uh… specials at the bar tonight are….” Gabe looks back at Braydon, and smiles when Bray’s eyes go wide. “Fuck it. It’s all on us!” Braydon hangs his head, shaking it, while the rest of the bandmates laugh and the entire crowd erupts in cheers. “Alright, guys! We are Black Edge, and the first song we’re playing for you tonight is a newbie for us and hits very close to home. Our guitarist, Braydon,” he starts, then pauses when a few girls whistle and catcall from the back of the room. Rolling his eyes, Gabe goes on, “Wrote it. It’s called Needed Fix. We hope you enjoy.” He winks at Nicole, and I roll my eyes as soon as the smile spreads across her face. Gabe needs to stop flirting with everything that has tits. One day, someone’s going to put him in his place. I just hope I’m around to see it.
Immediately, the band starts playing and the crowd calms. This is a new song, probably one of the many new songs Braydon was worried about tonight. He’s been super pre-occupied lately with making sure this show goes as smoothly as possible, but I have faith.
From the sounds of it, this is one of their more emotional songs. Not necessarily slow, the chords bring out something in me that not many songs have done before. It sucks me in, wrapping me around the notes before Gabe even sings the first line.
And, when he does, the entire room goes silent. The song is about friendship… I think. It comes across as one friend wanting to fix another friend, but not being able to. I bet Bray wrote this when Lane was in the depths of his sickness. I know I went to a dark place most nights after Lane went to sleep… I bet this is how Braydon coped.
I can tell everyone in the room is wrapped into it, because, even with free drinks at the bar, no one is making a sound. Gabe is singing of loss… of life…
Fuck, Gabe’s singing about love.
Looking around the room, no one else here seems to get this song. They all think it’s about two friends… but it’s not. I mean… it is, but it’s way more than that. When the chorus hits, I have to close my eyes for fear of letting a tear slip out.
I want to help you
I want to fix you
You need so see that
I want so badly
For you to need me
I wish you saw that
I want to fix you
but I can’t fix you
‘Cause you’re not mine to fix
The song goes on, but my ears are ringing, and I can’t focus anymore. When Gabe said it hit close to home, I wasn’t thinking he meant my home!
“You okay, Alexis?” Mark’s hand comes over mine, and it’s then that I realize the tears are streaming down my face. I look up at him and smile, wiping the wetness from my cheeks.
“I need a drink,” I murmur. When I go to stand, though, I realize I’ve already had enough for the night, but I need something to make me not turn into a blubbery mess, and alcohol typically does that for me.
“I got it. What do you want?” Mark’s hand lands on my lower back, steadying me, as I sit back down on the chair.
“Rum and coke. Thanks.” My eyes move to the stage as the song finishes up, and I can see the look on Braydon’s face. It’s worry. It’s sadness.
Then, his eye move to mine and everything around me seems to freeze. That look I saw earlier is back, but now I know exactly what it means.
It’s not a look of trepidation or anxiety. It’s not a look of longing or lust.
It’s love. It’s a look of pure love and utter fear that he’s going to fuck something up with this song.
I’ve never been so drunk smart in my life. Maybe I should drink beer more often.
“Here ya go. On the house.” Mark winks, and I roll my eyes. God, Braydon’s going to love that one.
“Thanks,” I mutter, gulping down the liquid gold.
Glancing back up Braydon again as the next song starts, I give him a grin letting him know it’s all okay. He’s sexy as hell up there on that stage, and his eyes are only on me when he looks out here. Jesus, he’s hot. God, my lady parts need some loving.
Fuck. Me.
He wrote me a love song.
Damnit this drink is good.
Braydon
The stunt Gabe pulled at the beginning of the show for free drinks is probably going to bankrupt us. Thank god I don’t have as many bills anymore because a good portion of that money is now going to have to go to restocking this fucking bar. I know he’s trying to impress the man from the label out in the audience, but fuck, man.
We’re playing the best we’ve ever played tonight, and I'm not sure if it’s because of the energy in the room or for the man sitting in the back of the room, basically judging us on how well we perform in big crowds. Word definitely got around tonight that it was a big show, and thank Christ for that. It’d be insanely embarrassing if no one showed up tonight.
I’ve been watching Al the entire time, ever since I first stepped foot on stage. She’s mingled with a few people, but all in all she’s stayed at the table with Mark. Thank god for Mark. I was afraid Al was going to get stuck with some of the stuck up bitches that hate me after dropping Lexie like I did. They can’t get over the fact that I’m not in it for a quick lay anymore, and that I’m serious about seeing this through with Al. She’s it for me.
By the end of the set, I think I’ve seen Alexis down about seven different typ
es of drinks. She hasn’t drunk like this in a long time and, from the looks of it, Mark knows and is keeping a close eye on her. I’ve never been so thankful for her still getting used to her condition after the accident until right now, when she can’t really get up because she’d just end up stumbling and falling on someone.
Great.
I love tipsy drunk Alexis; she’s crazy fun. I’m afraid we’re getting to the Alexis that’s only came out a couple times in our long friendship. Plastered Alexis can be belligerent and way too truthful. She’s not mean, per se, but where sober Alexis has at least a hint of a filter and knows when to use it, plastered Al doesn’t even know how to pronounce the word filter.
Great.
“Dude, that was awesome!” Gabe slaps my back, and hands me a bottle of water once we make it back stage. The crowd is still cheering, asking for an encore, but we’re all out of songs. We literally played everything we’ve ever written, which is a first for us. We were just feeling it so hard that, when the time came at the end of the set list, we kind of threw in everything we could think of and the crowd loved it.
“Yeah.” I smile, pat his shoulder, and take a swig of water. I definitely don’t get as parched as he does during shows, but, by the end of any good show, I’m ready for a drink. “I’m heading out.” I nod at the other men in the band, and start to head out to the bar when Christian Burnes, the director of one of the biggest indie labels in the area, bursts through the door, shocking us all silent.
“Boys! That was absolute brilliance!” He brings each of us in for one of those half-hug/ half back-slapping hugs that men do, then puts his hands on his hips. “So, let’s talk business.” The smile he gives me kind of creeps me out but it’s only because I’m still trying to process his words.
Business. Does this mean what I think it does? Gabe is talking, taking charge like Gabe does, and I’m still standing here like a dumbass.
We’re being signed? …. We’re being signed!
