by Daiko, SC
I’d tried to persuade everyone not to partake. They’d said it would only be the once, that they could handle it and they needed the stimulant to cope with playing Wembley for the first time.
It was only the thought of Phoenix that had kept me from giving in and snorting a line or two with them. I’d have given in without her… what had gone down at the meeting about Ella had upset me so much.
With a sigh, I kissed Phoenix on her smooth forehead, slid my arms from under her and shunted myself off the bed. I picked up my shorts and stepped into them, then tiptoed from the suite.
The corridor was empty, I could have fucking sworn it was, but when I slid my key card into the reader outside my door, movement in my peripheral made me swivel around.
Jesus, fuck, someone saw me.
But whoever it was had disappeared.
Today we didn’t need to do a sound check, so we went for fish and chips in Borough Market. Mike and Joe stuck to us like glue. Despite us wearing ball caps and shades a few fans recognized us, but we managed not to get mobbed. I heaved a sigh of relief when no one came forward to say they’d noticed me leaving Firebird’s room earlier. It must have been my imagination or someone who had nothing to do with ChiMera.
Now we were finishing our final set at Wembley. We’d arrived before the crowds and Jake had kept a firm eye on us so there’d been no chance for anyone to snort coke. I was glad of that—my resistance might have crumpled despite Firebird—I was so climbing the walls in anticipation of performing then seeing my dad.
The spotlight fell on me as I stood motionless at the end of the catwalk. Knowing my parents and family were in the private box I’d arranged for them made this part of the performance fucking hard, but I’d discussed this with the band, and we’d voted to carry on.
I stared down at my hands and took a deep breath. As per usual tears pooled behind my eyelids and I swallowed the lump in my throat before speaking into the mic. “Thank you for coming to our concert tonight. You’ve been a great audience. I hope you’ve enjoyed the show.” My voice wavered and I steeled myself to continue. “ChiMera has dedicated the European leg of the ‘Ghost in the Heart’ tour to my sister, Ella, who passed away last October.” I paused, sucked in more air. “Her favourite song was ‘The Alchemist’. In a minute, our technicians will dim the lights. You can switch on your phones and join in if you like.”
My heart almost burst out of my chest when over one hundred thousand people began chanting in unison, “Ella, Ella, Ella.”
Holy shit!
I waited until they fell silent, then Foxy’s signal came though my in-ear monitors, the spotlights dimmed, and we started singing, “Don’t waste your time with explanations. People only hear what they want to hear.”
The crowd sang at full volume and my skin prickled as thousands of phone lights lit up the stadium.
“This one was for you, Ella,” I shouted, warmth spreading through me.
The fans roared their approval.
I raised my arms and pointed toward the box where my family was sitting. “And for you.”
Our set ended like it always did with ‘Live, Love, Lose’. Gold confetti tangled in our hair while we took our final bow. I thanked the audience again, and then I thanked Vanilla Sky for supporting us as well as our entire crew who had made the tour such a success. Credits rolled on the screens behind us, naming every single person who’d worked with us the past couple months.
The audience screaming their appreciation, we ran to our dressing rooms to cool down and prepare for the after-show party.
Jake had booked the Family and Friends Room for the celebration. The crew helped themselves to food and drink, served by caterers. A crazy ‘school’s out for summer’ atmosphere filled the place… although we still had to play Glastonbury, we’d need a much smaller entourage there.
I stared across the crowded room.
There was Dad, standing next to Mum.
My heart thumped against my ribs.
Our eyes met.
He’d aged since the last time I’d seen him on that terrible day, the day when we’d stood next to each other at Ella’s graveside.
My Dad, Blake Wainwright, billionaire property developer.
I grew up with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, spending summers at St. Tropez and winters in the Caribbean. It was thanks to Mum’s down-to-earth influence that I hadn’t turned out a complete dickhead.
I lifted my hand in greeting and my chest squeezed.
After a painfully long minute or so, Dad returned the salute.
A step in the right direction, but how far?
I waited for him to come up to me.
The seconds ticked by.
We eyed each other like two rams about to lock horns.
Who would break first?
Dad’s face reflected his indecision, and I took that as a sign to make the first move.
I strode up to him and touched my hand to his arm. “Hello.”
He rubbed at the middle of his forehead and closed his eyes with a grimace.
“Hello, son,” he said gruffly.
I smirked. “So, you’ve decided to speak to me at last.”
He blinked his eyes open. “I enjoyed the concert.” He paused. “Despite everything, I’m proud of you...”
“Thanks.” A slow smile spread over my face. “That means a lot to me.”
“Your mother told me what Ella revealed to her…”
“I’ll do everything I can to find out more.”
“What good will that do?” He exhaled a long, slow breath. “She’s gone. Nothing will bring her back.”
“I know.” I set my jaw. “But I won’t have closure until I’m fully in the picture.”
He nodded, once, and I saw the need in his eyes.
Dad wanted closure too.
We all did.
Mum came up with my half-brother Noah, his wife Gwyneth and his dad Declan. They pumped my hand and clapped me on the back, telling me how much they’d loved the show.
“Come and meet Phoenix,” I said, leading them to where she was standing next to Hayley and Camila. “She’s the love of my life, but don’t say anything to anyone yet.”
“Your sister said those same words to me,” Mum whispered in my ear. “Please don’t let history repeat itself.”
What the fuck did she mean by that?
“I’m going come out about her.” I shot Mum a determined look. “We just need to work through some issues first.”
I stood apart from my family while Mum introduced them to Phoenix.
Sudden goosebumps prickled across my skin.
I spun around.
Camila had detached herself from Hayley and was glaring at me.
Shooting daggers at me with her eyes.
Fuck.
Was it her who’d seen me leaving Firebird’s room this morning?
Fucking fuck.
21
Tingles of excitement flourished through me. Glastonbury was said to be the most celebrated annual outdoor event in the history of rock ’n’ roll, and I was freaking stoked to be here. I sat in front of the mirror in the dressing room tent backstage, waiting for Hayley to come and help me get ready. We’d all arrived a short while ago by helicopter, descending through heavy cloud.
My stomach fluttered. Over two hundred thousand people were at the festival, most of them camping in the small tents they’d brought with them and erected in the designated camping fields around the site. Not all of them would be at our concert—there were others going on at the same time in different performance areas—yet, even so, we were about to headline on the iconic Pyramid Stage and this would be our biggest audience yet. I couldn’t believe I was soon to tread on the same boards where David Bowie, Beyoncé, and Jay-Z had once stood.
It occurred to me this was what Woodstock would have been today if Max Yasgur hadn’t decided to go back to running a dairy farm after being ostracized by his hippie-hating neighbors. Except, in addition to
contemporary music, Glastonbury hosted dance, comedy, theatre, circus, cabaret, and other arts. Leading pop and rock musicians had headlined here, including Radiohead, the Killers, the Cure, Foo Fighters and Metallica, alongside thousands of others on the smaller stages. Glastonbury received extensive media coverage—we would be appearing on national TV—and, at this minute Axel was doing a live interview with the BBC.
I thought about him and our day with his family yesterday and my heart stuttered. Sara had invited the entire band, as well as Camila, Hayley and our security team for lunch at the mansion in Surrey where she lived with Blake and Declan. After we’d eaten, we’d walked to the village church and had taken flowers to Ella in the graveyard. A poignant moment, and everyone had hugged and cried and told her how much they loved and missed her. Hayley and I had never met Ella, so we kept a respectable distance. Camila had sobbed as if her heart would break, and I remembered Axel telling me how close she and Ella were.
Now, I stared at my reflection in my dressing room mirror.
Where had Camila been on the night Ella overdosed?
I turned around as the flap to my tent opened, expecting to see Hayley.
My smile wavered.
Camila had come through the entrance.
“Where’s Hayley?” I asked, confused.
Camila’s hazel eyes narrowed. “She’s helping the guys.”
“Oh.” I blinked rapidly. “Why?”
“I wanted to talk to you privately.” Camila placed her hands on my shoulders and met my gaze in the mirror. “I saw Axel leave your suite at dawn the other morning.” Her nostrils flared. “I hope you realize what you’ve gotten yourself into…”
My belly gave a lurch, “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
She carried on staring at me in the mirror, picked up a comb and, with trembling fingers, started running it through my hair. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way he looks at you all the time like he’s fucking you with his eyes.”
My mouth fell open. “It’s just a game he plays.” I kept my tone steady. “I’m his muse…. it’s all about the music.”
“Ha.” Her laugh was sardonic. “I bet.” She began twisting my hair into an updo.
Time to change the subject.
“Axel’s mom told us something about Ella.”
Camila’s eyes popped. “What?”
“She mentioned that Ella was in love with another woman,” I said matter-of-factly.
Camila gave my hair a painful tug, making me wince.
“Ella was a junkie,” she said shrilly. “Her only love was heroin.”
I let out a gasp. “You knew she was shooting up? Why didn’t you tell Axel?”
She patted my hair, reached into her bag and extracted a tube of foundation. “Because I knew that if I couldn’t stop her, he wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell.” She snapped her gum and worked the makeup into my face. “Ella needed to go to rehab. But she refused. If I couldn’t get through to her, no one else would have managed.”
I tilted my head to the side. “What about Kimberly? Was she the woman Ella was seeing?”
“I don’t know.” Camila dropped her gaze and rummaged in her bag. “Why are you asking?”
I creased my brow. “Axel and his family wanna find out what happened the night Ella died.”
Camila lifted her chin and stared at me in the mirror. “Axel and the guys were high on blow. Just like they always are.”
“Always are? No. They’re clean now…” I angled my body away from her.
She rolled her eyes. “Not from what I’ve seen. They were snorting lines only a couple days ago. I saw the evidence when I went to get them ready before the first Wembley concert…”
Oh. My. God.
“I don’t believe you,” I blurted out, gripping the armrests of my chair.
She sneered. “Just ask Axel. He won’t deny it.”
Nausea swelled in my stomach and a cold feeling of dread settled over my skin. Except, for some reason, I didn’t trust Camila. I’d thought for a while that she didn’t like me. I’d put it down to her friendship with Ella and not warming to me because I was a sub.
“I’ll finish getting ready on my own, thanks.” I said coldly. “I suggest you go give Hayley a hand with the guys…”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Camila folded her arms. “But you should ask Axel about his cocaine habit. I know from experience that an addict will always be an addict. It’s a part of them…”
“Please.” I held up my hands. “I don’t need your advice. You stick to your job and I’ll stick to mine.”
“Sure. Won’t be difficult, sugar. This is your last performance with the band.”
She flounced out of the tent and I finished applying my makeup, my wrists shaking and my thoughts in a whirl.
I trusted Axel.
Trusted that he was clean of drugs.
But why would Camila lie?
I would just need to get through the concert and then talk to him, I decided, getting to my feet and taking a sparkly black dress from its hanger.
Oh, God. I should have asked her where she’d been the night Ella overdosed.
I dug my nails into the palms of my hands, pissed with myself.
My stomach was churning so much I almost puked.
I resolved to act like a professional and carry on as if nothing had happened. As I’d told Camila, I’d do my job. It was what ChiMera paid me for and I’d freaking do it to the best of my ability. This was my last live performance with them… I’d be returning to the States tomorrow.
Axel came back from his interview just before we went on stage. We had our usual group hug and the crowd roared as we took up our positions.
I stared at him. Had he been doing coke?
No, he’d told me he was clean… and I believed him.
Believed him and not Camila.
I relaxed and settled into the performance.
I’d never seen a crowd this size from a stage before. It looked more like I’d have imagined a weird, multicolored pre-harvest prairie than a field full of people.
Stretching as far as the distant horizon.
Half-lit under the night sky by flashlights and phones.
Twice the numbers we’d been getting at our stadium concerts.
Scaffolding, spotlights, video screens and huge speakers towered into the darkness above me, making me feel insignificant as I stood behind my mic.
There was no catwalk, so Axel prowled the front of the stage. The audience was loving him, girls perched on guys’ shoulders, flags and weird balloons waving above the crowd as they sang the chorus to ‘London Lovers’.
London lovers, in a hurry
Time stood still and I crushed her to me.
The bridge fell down, but I carried on
Underground where I belonged.
Axel spread his arms wide, and that’s when I heard it. A distant rumble of thunder.
Holy shit!
Without warning, the heavy sky unzipped itself and rain sheeted down.
All over the crowd.
The front of the stage.
The pedal boards.
The mics.
Everything.
Another crash of thunder and my heart almost beat out of my chest.
Carry on.
Act professional.
Don’t freak.
Axel came to stand right next to me and he held me with his eyes.
“You’re the one that I need,” he sang the words to the song, but he was singing them to me… I could see it in his expression.
Rooted to the spot, I nodded to him, telling him with my own eyes that I’d got this. I would face it out. I was scared but I’d be okay.
The set continued and Axel kept his shirt on. It was plastered to his body, showing his ripped pecs and abs.
He lowered himself; he was soaking wet and so were his fans. They were glued to him like his tee, and when he told them to crouch down, they did so in unison, only to leap
up with him on the command, “Jump!”
Through sheer force of will, I managed to carry on through the storm. If there’d been a lot of lightning, I would probably have totally lost it. The thunder made me shake uncontrollably and beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. I wanted to run off the stage and hide myself away, but I didn’t. Instead, I swallowed my fear and focused on the task at hand.
Finally, we arrived at the end of the set.
I stepped forward with the guys to bow.
But I couldn’t do it.
A fork of lightning lit up the sky.
I turned and ran.
Ran as if the hounds of hell were at my heels.
Behind a black drape strong arms grabbed me.
Axel.
“It’s okay, baby, I’ve got you.”
He held me against his rock-hard chest.
I lifted my face.
He crashed his mouth down on mine and kissed me.
Kissed away my fear.
“Fucking hell,” Jake’s voice interrupted us.
We sprang apart.
Shock wheeled through me and I yelped.
The band had appeared.
They were standing glaring at us, legs planted wide.
“Kept your dick in your pants, did you, bro’?” Foxy growled.
Axel gave a bellow and launched himself at him.
I bit back a scream.
Rhys and Zach pulled them apart.
This was all my fault.
My stupid fault.
Muttering something under his breath, Jake put his arm around me and led me away.
22
Jake took me to my tent. I was shaking so much I was finding it hard to breathe. Oh, God, I’d freaking ripped the band apart.
Me and my stupid storm phobia.
I shrugged his arm off me, struggling to keep my tears at bay. “You’ve gotta stop the fight.”
He barked out a laugh. “They won’t kill each other. Just throw a few punches. Happens all the time…”
I stared at him, stared at this preppy dude who’d been nannying us every second of the tour. “You’re gonna leave them to it?!” I’d sounded incredulous and I was.
