“He used to play the keyboard when we first started the band, but when we lost our first drummer, he took over and stayed there because it was easier to find someone for keyboards than it was to find a drummer that would actually show up and could keep the right beat.”
“That’s when I joined,” Jack informs me.
“And who was the bassist before Lachlan?” I ask them both.
“Just a girl,” Marcus says quietly, as he pulls a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. “Why don’t you two finish up here and I’ll get our room keys,” he offers, obviously trying to avoid the conversation. He jogs into the hotel entrance, leaving Jack and I on our own.
“It was this chick called Andrea,” Jack volunteers.
“Andrea? Do I know her?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. She was a bit of a random. I’m not actually sure how he met her.”
“Why did she leave?”
“Because she was shit. She fucked up left, right, and centre. Nearly destroyed the whole band. I’m pretty sure she was only in the band in the first place because she was screwing Marcus.” Jack explains, shutting the boot as he sets the last bag on the ground.
“Shut the fuck up man,” Marcus says from behind us. He’s holding an envelope that I’m assuming has the key cards for our rooms inside. We didn’t even hear him coming up. “You only overlapped with her for a couple of months and came in at the tail end of it. Quit talking about shit you know nothing about.” Marcus glares at Jack, who just rolls his eyes, ignoring the outburst and continuing on regardless.
“She totally fucked up this gig, because she was too off her face to play properly so Theo cracked it, kicked her out, then brought Lachlan in – end of story. But Theo has threatened us all that if we do drugs we’re out, and we’re not allowed to involve our girlfriends in band business.”
“That’s fair enough. Theo’s always been anti-drugs. Besides, I don’t think I’d want to be in a band mixed up in that shit. And I do appreciate that there’s no hangers on at rehearsals. I think it’s made you guys really professional,” I say, loading up my arms with as many bags as I can carry and following them both to the elevator bay.
“Don’t tell Theo any of that. He’ll get a big head,” Marcus comments, bumping against the up button with his elbow.
It doesn’t take long for the lifts to arrive and we all pile inside and ride up without saying much more than what floor we’re on and what our room numbers are.
“I’ll bet Radio Silence doesn’t have to lug their own bags around,” Jack complains, straining against the weight of three large duffle bags.
“Well, we’re not Radio Silence,” Marcus points out as we make it to our rooms. We’re all situated either across or next to each other. So we make a pile of luggage in the middle of the hall and open up all the doors, depositing the correct bags in the correct rooms.
Marcus is sharing with Theo, and Jack will be with Lachlan. I, of course, am on my own. Each room has one or two double beds, and a low line cupboard spanning the longest wall. On that are the TV, a water jug and supplies for making tea or coffee. Built into it is a mini bar, and at the very end is a narrow wardrobe. There’s also a bathroom, and a small sitting area with a couch and coffee table.
I unzip my suitcase and start to pull out some of my things, hanging them in the cupboard provided.
A few minutes later, a light tapping sound comes from my door, just before it opens. Marcus walks in, holding my key card in front of him.
“You might want this,” he says, waiving it at me before placing it in my hand.
“Thank you,” I say, noticing that his hair is damp and he’s changed his clothes from the ones he was wearing on the flight here. I inhale, smelling the scent of soap as it drifts off his warm skin. I can’t help but let out a little hum.
“What do you think of the room? It’s ok right?” he comments, taking a quick look around then flopping down on my bed, next to my open suit case.
“Yeah, it’s nice enough,” I say, as I continue to unpack my things. When I turn around, Marcus is holding my purple silk and black lace bra off the tip of his finger.
“You got a thing for purple huh?”
I reach out and snatch it from his hand, giving him my best unimpressed look.
“Hey, it’s nice. Who’s the lucky guy?”
I grab the remainder of my undergarments and stuff them into a drawer, so they’re out of his reach and sight.
“There is no lucky guy. You should know that. I don’t do what you do. I have this thing called standards. And self-respect.”
“And what is it that I do?”
“Fuck every girl on two legs who batts her eyes at you.” I fold my arms over my chest and wait for some sort of smart arse reaction.
Instead, he says, “Maybe I’m just trying to keep busy until I can have the girl I really want. Have you ever thought that?”
He gets up off the bed and moves over to where I’m standing, stopping directly in front of me, only inches away from my face.
My heart starts to thud loudly in my chest, and I wonder if he can hear it. Over the last few months, we’ve been so busy with the band and our own respective jobs, that this is the first time we’ve actually been one hundred percent on our own. Keeping busy helped me focus on building working relationships with my band mates and kept my mind off the fact that Marcus was and probably still is my crush – well, that’s what I tell myself anyway. That it’s just a crush, and something that can be ignored.
Although, who can ignore a man who is head and shoulders above you, with long lean muscles, almost zero body fat, and a face that looks like it could have been chiselled in stone. Girls have, and always will, fall all over him, and I know from experience that I would happily be one of them. It’s just the fact that this is Marcus – the guy who has never had a relationship last with a girl for more than a night. While I admit that I’m attracted to him, being any more than friends will just ruin everything. I get that he’s just playing with me. He loves getting a rise out of me, and I don’t mind. The attention is fun. Just as long as we both get that playing is as far as it goes.
Nevertheless, his closeness makes me heady, makes my fingertips itch to reach out and touch him. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. Even still, I lift my hands slightly, feeling momentarily brave or foolish – I’m not sure which one. But instead of reaching for him, I reach back and grip the edge of the bench top, turning my head to break eye contact.
“You missed a pair,” he whispers.
I turn back to him and lift a slightly shaky hand to take the pair of black lace panties out of his hand as he offers them to me. His eyes are sparkling amusedly, it’s as if he really loves having this effect on me. I think he knows exactly what he’s doing, and I’m glad that he does – because I have no idea what’s going on. I’m starting to feel like I’m stuck in a revolving door of emotions.
He leans in even closer, his golden brown hair tickling my face as it brushes past me, and he inhales. I feel his warm breath caressing my neck as he releases it, his mouth right beside my ear.
“You might want to take a shower,” he murmurs. “You kind of stink.”
My eyes, which had fluttered closed, suddenly fly open, my mouth along with it, as I let out a shocked gasp. “Well don’t sniff me!” I yelp, shoving him away from me as he starts to chuckle, seemingly delighted with my reaction. “Get out!” I throw the only thing I have in my hand at him in a huff as he moves toward the door.
Laughing loudly now, he catches the underwear. “I’m keeping these by the way. You’re the first girl to throw her panties at me.”
“No! Give them back!” I yell, charging toward him.
“Never,” he laughs, quickly opening the door and exiting. By the time I get to it and throw it open, he’s already across the hall with his door open.
“I wouldn’t let that door shut if I were you. You’re key is still on the table inside,” he points out, causing me to free
ze with my foot jammed against the door.
“Shit,” I hiss, balling my hands at my side, feeling defeated as Marcus laughs at me again and spins my panties around his finger looking mightily impressed with himself.
With a wink, he shuts the door, knowing that he’s won. “Jerk!” I call after him. Although when I close my door, I’m smiling.
Every day that I spend around him reminds me why I’ve always liked him so much, why I’ve always loved being in his presence. He’s fun, he’s spontaneous, and never afraid to say or do something.
Shaking my head, I make my way to the bathroom to shower before rehearsal.
Chapter 21
Theo
“Ok guys, let’s do that new song, Controlled by Longing from the top. The sound is off,” I say, wanting to give it one last shot to get our board right. Everyone’s exhausted from the long trip, and struggling to give it their all, but we only have a couple of days until the show, and I don’t want to leave anything to chance. Our instruments need to be perfect, our sense of space on the stage, and our sound levels need to be perfect too.
Our set up is kind of a V-shape, I’m in back with Naomi to my right and ahead of me slightly. Ahead on my left is Jack and his keyboards, and ahead of him is Lachlan on bass. Marcus, being the front man, is front and centre. That way he can move around and interact with everyone as necessary.
Marcus turns around and nods at me. I count us in, closing my eyes and listening to each note played and each word sung so I can confer with the sound guy afterward.
I can’t control this feeling
I’m about to raze it all to the ground
I need you to stop me,
I need your gentle calm,
I don’t want your words,
Just the cool touch of your palm
Lay with me
Wrap me in your arms
Despite our exhausted state, we’re all playing well. I guess we’re all at a stage where we know that if we fuck around, we could lose our chance at becoming more than a garage band who records all of their own stuff.
Honestly, I’d love to get picked up by a label, or to have someone else manage it. The time and energy I put into this band is huge – it’s my entire focus. While I love doing it, and love that we’re getting some success out of it, it would be nice to have someone else pick up the slack a bit, so I can actually enjoy some of the fun of the band instead of feeling like I’m everybody’s Nazi dad.
When the last notes are played, our attention is turned toward the floor, where a loud clapping is echoing through the room.
A light is trained on the stage, causing the floor to be cast in shadow, but as the figure approaches, we all know immediately who it is.
“Sounding great guys,” Dan Stolle, the front man for Radio Silence praises, his English accent sounding out of place in this Aussie setting as he climbs up onto the stage.
We all thank him, beaming like a bunch of groupies. He shakes each of our hands, complimenting us on our music, but he pays special attention to Naomi.
“You sweetheart, are the reason we said yes to having Matiari support us on this tour. I have to say, I love what you do with that fiddle of yours. It’s seriously making me think of adding a string section to some of our songs.”
“Really?” she giggles. Giggles. She fucking giggles. She keeps a hold of his hand, smiles wider than I’ve ever seen her and giggles. Great.
You have to know that all of us guys are a bit star struck too, but the moment he starts to lift her hand to his lips, I think we all snap out of it and become like a pack of wolves, protecting their female.
“Absolutely,” he smiles, still holding her hand close to his mouth. The action wipes any smile I had off my face as I watch her turn to a puddle at his feet.
“Well, I just wanted to drop by and meet you all. We’re about to rehearse ourselves, but I hope to be crossing paths again soon.” He directs the last part at Naomi, who fucking giggles again.
“Great. Nice to meet you mate. See you around,” Marcus says tonelessly. I can tell he isn’t impressed with this guy walking in and trying out his rock star charm on our girl either.
Dan Stolle seems oblivious or just doesn’t care about our reaction as he heads backstage, leaving us all feeling like the wind was just taken out of our sails. For a while I just stand there, staring after him like I’m trying to bore a hole in the back of his head. I mean seriously – who the fuck does he think he is walking in here like that? Hitting on Naomi right in front of us. I mean, he may as well have cocked his leg and taken a piss around the stage to mark his territory. What a jerk. I know that fame does things to people, but you’d think he wouldn’t be so fucking obvious.
Ok, so the only reason we’re here is because he wants Naomi. That’s just great. Now I have to worry about him sniffing around her too.
“We’ll finish up now,” I tell everyone, keeping my head down as I unplug one of the leads and wrap it around my arm to start packing our gear away. I’m sure Radio Silence wouldn’t want any of our stuff stinking up their stage. After all, we’re only here because they want Naomi. Shit.
“Um, you might want to wash your hand,” I overhear Marcus suggest to Naomi. He says it quietly, but in a big place like this, the sound carries.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you don’t know where he’s been.”
I can say the same thing about my brother. But I guess his memory is a little selective right now.
Naomi
My eyebrows rise straight to the top of my head. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black don’t you think?” I say to him, annoyed that he’s ruining what was just a very exciting moment for me. I mean Dan Stolle of Radio Silence just told me that he was a fan of my work and told me that he wants to see me later.
The man is every girl’s wet dream, pure one hundred percent rock star hotness, and he just showed interest in me. Now Marcus, who has probably slept with every girl I’ve ever known, is telling me to wash my hand after a rock star kissed it. Not cool.
Marcus leans in and whispers in my ear. “Just say the word, and I won’t touch another one.”
I pull my head back, turning so I can look up into his eyes. He seems sincere, so I find myself saying. “The word.”
His eyes narrow slightly, as the corner of his mouth turns up. He appears pleased with himself. “Done. Just stay away from the likes of him.”
I roll my eyes, feeling confused and tired. “Are we done? I just want to eat and go to bed. I’ve had enough for today.”
“I’m with Nomes. I’m beat,” agrees Lachlan. Theo reluctantly nods his head as we pick up and put away the last of our equipment. I try to catch his eye as we lock everything in place, but he’s not looking at me. I don’t know if he’s just got his business face on or if he has the shits with me too.
Great. Just when I thought the Bailey brother drama was settling down, they start to go all weird on me. Whatever, we’ve got too much to do to be worrying about male egos.
As we’re leaving, we start to hear Radio Silence tuning their instruments, ready for their rehearsal. I wonder for a moment if it would be ok to stay and listen to them, but I don’t want to look all fangirly around them. I’ll wait to watch them at a later date – after all, we are going to be spending the next few weeks with them.
Chapter 22
Naomi
The downside of sleeping in the car this afternoon is that now my body clock is out of whack, and I can’t sleep. I’ve never been a massive party girl, so unless I’m working, I never stay awake until three in the morning. I’d much prefer to be sleeping. But tonight, I’m watching whatever movie is free on the hotel’s television, wishing I could fall asleep.
I seriously think about paying the ten dollars for one of the tiny bottles of vodka in the mini bar, just to try and depress my system a little.
Right now, I’m watching an old Carey Grant movie called An Affair to Remember. It’s a really beautiful story t
hat has me weeping tears of happiness at the end. Obviously, my sobs are a little on the noisy side, because as the final music plays I hear a soft tapping on my door.
Standing up, I wrap my silk dressing gown around me and pad over to the door, opening it slightly to peer out into the dimly lit hall. My heart starts to thud when I find Theo standing there looking effortlessly gorgeous in a pair of black sweatpants and a plain grey t-shirt. His hair looks messy like he’s been trying to sleep, and the stubble that seems to be constantly present on his face has almost doubled since I last saw him.
“Are you ok?” Theo enquires, his voice low and soft, as his eyes fill with concern. “Have you been crying?”
I wipe over my eyes, imagining I must look a fright, and smile reassuringly. “No… well, I have. But not because I’m upset. I was watching a movie. It had a sad ending.”
“Oh. Ok. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you to it,” he says, starting to turn away.
“Theo?”
He turns back to me, eyebrows raised in question.
“Are you ok? Can’t you sleep?”
He bounces his shoulders slightly and shakes his head. “There’s too much going on in my head,” he explains.
“Why don’t you come in for a while?” I offer, unlatching the hook on my door and opening it wider. “I still haven’t shown you the lyrics I was thinking of for that song.”
He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, the muscles in his arms flexing as he fidgets, trying to decide. “Sure,” he concedes, stepping past me and inside my room.
I close the door and re-hook the latch before wandering over to switch on a lamp for some light. Muting the television, I go to sit back down on the bed, expecting him to come and sit next to me, but he just stands in the middle of the floor awkwardly before deciding to go and clear one of the lounge chairs to sit on that are currently covered with my things.
“You can sit next to me. I’m not going to bite you,” I tell him, watching him try to organise my mess.
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