The Wild Interview

by K. A Knight

  He throws his head back and laughs. “That’s family for you, isn’t it?”

  We talk for the next hour, letting me decompress from last night and this morning, and I enjoy myself. Mark is easy to talk to and he’s an open book. We talk about my schooling and dreams, and he shows me pictures and videos from his life. He talks to me like an adult but also treats me like a kid, like he treats the boys. It should annoy me, but now that I know he does it because he cares, I smile and let him.

  “Well, I better get back, sweetness.” I nod, sad to see him go, and clear away our mugs. I better get started on yet again, more paperwork, but I want to check in with the others first. Make sure they are okay.

  I find the guys backstage, trying on some new outfits ready for the tour. Damon is dressed like a firefighter, and really, that is not good for my lady place. She really wants to see his hose… and omg I’ve had too much coffee now. Dragging my eyes away from him, I almost groan when I spot Liam dressed as a cop. Really, what did I do in a previous life? I’m only one woman and it looks like a barbie fetish wet dream in here. I try to ignore them all, not looking at the uniforms. Perching myself on a chair, I dig into the box of new unopened props, and arch my eyebrow when I drag out a large purple dildo. I mean really, it's huge. It looks like barney the dinosaur fucked a giant. Wait, is it neon? Really. A giant, purple neon dildo. What has my job come to?

  “Really?” I ask, holding it up.

  Blake is leaning against the wall, luckily only in trousers, even as Liam grins from where he’s doing up Emmett’s assless sailor costume. Leo is playing with a guitar and Kingston is dressed like a Blade reject, including a long leather jacket and hat.

  “It’s a prop, Angel, you know. To tease the ladies.” He grins and starts dry humping Emmett, who just rolls his eyes.

  I blow out an exasperated breath and watch Blake, who looks particularly moody today. I smile and he returns it, albeit a bit grumpy. Liam must catch my look because he comes to perch next to me and Leo stands next to me.

  “What’s wrong Blakey Poo? Sad you don’t get to be the cop? I am, after all, the better looking guy, it makes more sense. Though you do have that mardy as shit look down.” He grins and I look between them. What the flying dildo? Why is he winding Blake up? I see the latter’s eyes tighten as he glares at Liam.

  “What's going on?” I ask, leaning into Leo.

  He shrugs and moves closer, whispering into my ear. “They had a fight about being too inappropriate with you. Blake thinks Liam should give you some space after last night, not ‘fawn all over you like a lovesick puppy.’” Leo does finger quotes and I wince.

  It seems Blake has struck a nerve with our usually happy stripper. In fact, Liam looks downright spiteful right now, as he opens his mouth, I prepare myself when Blake pushes from the wall. I know whatever he’s going to say is bad, so I panic. Looking around I spot the dildo still in my hand, in my panic fueled craze, I fling it at him, then watch in horror as it sails through the air like a, well, a flying dildo, and whacks Liam in the face. Slapping him before dropping to the floor, where everyone looks from it to me.

  Blinking, I don’t even know what to say but with the silence stretching, I pretend that’s exactly what I wanted to happen. “Right, no more of this shit. I’m a big girl. I can say what I do and don’t need.” I look at Blake, softening my tone. “I appreciate you trying to look after me, but if I need some space I will say so. I don’t know if you have noticed, but I’m quite outspoken.” Looking at Liam, who still seems shocked to have been hit with a flying purple dildo, I carry on, “Blake was only trying to protect me, yes it probably came out harsh and not what he meant, but we need to stick together. Now more than ever, we can’t afford to fall apart. So pull up your underwear if you’re wearing any and move on… or else,” I finish lamely, crossing my arms.

  They all look around before Damon steps forward, drawing every eye. “Or you will hit us with a purple dildo?” he asks slowly, his eyes filled with suppressed laughter even as I nod.

  “Yes,” I confirm, lifting my head and trying to pretend everything is normal.

  They look between themselves before bursting out laughing, and just when I think they might stop, they look at the dildo or Liam again and carry on. Grumbling about stupid strippers, I snatch up my new weapon and stride out of there with as much dignity as a woman holding Barney’s dick can.

  I don’t have to hit anyone else with my dildo, though I do find myself really wanting to. It was strangely therapeutic. At about eight PM the guys come and find me, they always do, and without a word Kingston grabs my bag and Leo my coat. Both knowing that if they don’t force me, I won’t leave. Grumbling, even as my heart speeds up at their thoughtfulness, I slip into it and join the others upstairs.

  We split up into two cars again, this time with me being shotgun. I’m so tired, with last night and today draining me, and I let the sounds of their teasing relax me as I stare out of the window and watch the rainfall.

  “Hey, you okay?” Leo asks, reaching over to squeeze my hand on my thigh before returning it back to the steering wheel. I can hear Kingston and Damon still happily chattering away about the new set as I turn my head and gaze at him.

  “Yeah, just really tired. You?” He looks over at me, one hand resting on the wheel and the other on the gear.

  He hesitates and his hand tightens on the wheel. “Leo?” I ask softly and he sighs.

  “It’s nothing,” he mutters, and I glance back to see the others still busy talking.

  “You have another fight with Kelsey?” I guess.

  “Yes.” He sighs again and I wish I could wipe that look from his face. “She saw the photo in the paper, she worked out that it was you and wanted to make sure you were okay, but it ended up with a fight... I don’t even know how.” He shakes his head in bewilderment.

  “Did you ask her about coming to rehearsal and shows? Like we talked about?” I prod and watch as he avoids looking at me. “Leonardo, we discussed this. It’s the only way. Right now it might seem okay, like you are in limbo, but if you don’t, it's only going to get worse and you’re just hurting each other,” I huff, being deadly serious.

  “I know, I will. I’ll ask her,” he finishes with more confidence and I nod.

  “It’s better to know, sweetie,” I say softer and watch as he swallows. I have learnt a lot about the guys over the last week, especially Leo. One: Leo is a romantic. He believes in love and wants it desperately, even if it means changing women each week to find it. He doesn't do it be a player or an arsehole, he does it because for that short time, he’s connected to somebody. Two: he’s terrified of getting hurt and wears his heart on his sleeve.

  We spend the rest of the ride home lost in our thoughts, and when we pull up to the house I let the others slip out, before reaching over and laying my hand on Leo’s arm. “I’m here for you, I hope it works out.” I lean over and kiss his cheek before slipping out my door.

  Just as I am shutting it, I watch him cupping his cheek with a strange look on his face before he whispers. “Thank you.”

  I nod and meet the others outside, where Liam instantly drapes himself over me and chatters away. When we get inside I’ve barely just kicked off my shoes, when Blake leans down and puts both of ours on the shoe rack before stalking away into the house.

  I smile despite myself, he might try and act aloof, but he’s a big softie—just very, very deep down.

  The rest of the night is a blur, and I’m exhausted. I smile and nod throughout dinner, but I think the guys notice my lack of conversation and Kingston demands I go and get some rest. I kiss all their cheeks goodnight, even mardy Blake before making my way to my room, with my feet aching and an annoying stomach cramp. Dragging myself into the shower I get ready for bed quickly, checking my emails and plugging in my phone before curling up. But the bed seems empty and the room lonely, especially after last night. I don’t know why I’m feeling particularly needy, but when Liam sticks his head around
the door I sigh in relief.

  “Can I join you?” He looks so shy and nervous I’ll turn him away, that I find my hand already in the air. He rushes in and takes it, curling up around me. I shuffle down until we are facing each other, our foreheads touching.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, his voice barely there.

  “No, guess I’m getting used to being in a stripper pile,” I joke and he grins.

  “Give it a minute,” he says, closing his eyes with a smug smile.

  He doesn’t mean…

  But just then the door swings open, and I lift my head to see Kingston striding in. He doesn't even speak, just flicks off the light and climbs into bed behind me, curling his body around my back and shoving his arm under mine and Liam's head. I giggle and Liam grins, his eyes still closed.

  “Can I help you?” I try to ask Kingston seriously, but I giggle at the end again.

  He slaps my thigh lightly and buries his face in the back of my neck, our legs twining. “Hush, you should be asleep.”

  “Well, it seems my room is a hot spot tonight,” I point out.

  The door opens again, making my smile grow as I pick up my head to see Damon. He doesn’t seem surprised to see the others as he climbs on top of me, making me grunt as he lays over my legs with his head on my side. It can’t be comfy, but I remember what they said about being touchy-feely, it’s how they show they care and they all obviously spotted that I’m still a bit raw after last night.

  With their heat surrounding me, I close my eyes with a small smile on my face. “Good night.”

  A chorus of replies has me hiding my smile in the pillow. It feels like only minutes later when something wakes me up. Laying in a big, sweaty pile I frown and shut my eyes when the cramp comes again. Oh for—

  Sighing, I manage to wiggle and slide my way from them, not at all in a dignified manner, thank god no one was here to see. Slipping into the bathroom I groan. Thanks mother nature, just the time I need to be moody.

  I sort myself out before slipping back into the dark bedroom, the bathroom light shining across the floor. Deciding to get a drink while I’m up, I tiptoe out of the door and make my way downstairs, only to stop on the bottom step when soft music reaches me. Tilting my head, I find myself following the sound, it’s a piano I realise with a start. The beautiful flowing sound is unmistakable and getting louder as I slide down the corridor. Opening a door to a room I’ve never bothered to look into before—one at the back of the house and off the kitchen—I freeze, barely even moving.

  The room is beautiful, it’s like a mix of a conservatory and a music room. The wall opposite me is curved with floor to ceiling windows, and open double doors that lead outside and let the breeze in. The floor is a dark hardwood and the room is shaped like a hexagon, with the remaining walls painted a deep emerald. The only thing in here is a old school grand piano... with Blake on the bench, lost in the music he’s playing.

  I watch, enthralled like when he dances, but this is different. His face is open, showing every expression as his eyes are closed and his fingers dance along the keys with precision. He loses himself in the music as it floats around the room, his whole body moving as he experiences the crescendo. I hold my breath as the music fades away, his fingers stroking the keys like a lover until he lifts them completely. Only then do his eyes open, and they land on me immediately. I thought he would stiffen, lock himself away again, but he just watches me. His face is more relaxed than I have ever seen it, a peace settling into his bones as he sits on the bench.

  “You play beautifully,” I say softly, stepping into the room when he doesn’t run away.

  “Thank you.” He looks down and strokes the keys again, playing a soft tune which wraps around me, pulling me to him.

  Without a word, he slides further down the bench, never once missing a note, and I perch next to him. My eyes locked onto his long tattooed fingers on the keys, he moves so fast and with such confidence that I lose myself in him and the music.

  It’s not until the last note fades away that I realise I’m more relaxed than I have been in days, and I’m leaning into him with my head on his shoulder. To pull away now would make it weird, so I leave it there.

  I don’t want to say anything to spoil the moment or start an argument, so I sit and watch as he starts playing again. I open my mouth, letting the music lead me as I sing along, just an old nursery rhyme. He misses a key when I first start, but soon falls back into the rhythm until I trail off with the music.

  “You sing beautifully, love,” he murmurs softly, and the endearment has me shivering next to him. He makes the word sound dirty.

  “Thank you.” I go quiet for a moment, but he seems so open that I can’t help the question slipping out, wanting to know everything about them—about him. “Who taught you to play?”

  “A teacher at my school, I got into trouble a lot. One day he pulled me into isolation in the music room, told me to pick an instrument and he would teach me. Promised me the music would let my worries, anger, pain, all of it disappear. He wasn't wrong. He promised to continue lessons, but only if I stayed out of trouble.”

  “Did you?” I ask, as he idly starts to play again.

  “Yes, I loved the lessons too much not to. The music, the way the keys move... it’s hypnotic.” He hums along as I watch for a while.

  “Is it why you like dancing so much?”

  “I can lose myself in the rhythm. Nothing matters, just the beat and my body. It doesn't matter that I’m a street urchin, that I have no family, the anger... none of it matters. For those minutes, I’m someone else, my body nothing but a tool. It’s freeing, a way to escape and I needed that desperately.”

  I nod against his shoulder, understanding that. “My brother and I loved to sing, it was our thing. Geeky I know, but we would always do it. Learning new songs and practicing them like we were popstars. I have always loved music and that only made it more, stronger, it’s in my soul. When I lost him... it was like all the music was ripped away. Singing broke my heart, it was cold without him.”

  “How did you find it again?” he questions softly, still playing.

  “Time. I stopped turning the radio off when I recognised a song we sang to. I stopped hiding from the pain, I let it fill me until I was whole. I let it guide me into this career, the music allowing me to feel close to him once again. I still miss it though…” I trail off and realise a tear has slipped free and onto his shoulder, he doesn’t comment.

  “Want to sing with me?” he asks, sounding so unsure, even as his fingers don’t stop.

  He opens his mouth and a powerful voiced filled with pain and longing flows out, startling me. He doesn't ask me again, just lets me decide until I join in softly. Our voices wrapping around one another until his fingers stop on the keys and our voices trail off, once again parting ways.

  My chest is heaving and I’m struggling to remember all the reasons I don’t like Blake—okay, that’s a lie. All the reasons I keep him at arms distance. Especially when he turns to me and I pick up my head, our faces inches apart.

  I lick my lips and his eyes drop to them, he doesn’t even hide the stark hunger on his face as he watches me. It feels like the whole world is holding its breath for this moment, me included.

  “I’m scared,” I admit in a whisper. Scared of getting close, scared of getting hurt, scared of the feelings they cause in me. I’m scared and I hate that.

  “Me too,” he admits and I freeze, my eyes locking on his sincere ones.

  “Really?” I ask, needing him to comfort me now more than ever, last night he was my hero. In the morning he was my protector. It feels like ever since that moment in the night club something akin to a bond has formed between us, and neither of us know how to fight it.

  “Terrified,” he whispers, leaning closer to me until our lips are hovering over one another.

  I open my mouth to ask him what of, but his mouth presses lightly against mine. A butterfly kiss, more covering than anything, and
we both freeze before I bring my hands up and twine them in his hair, holding him to me as he dots soft kisses on me. It’s perfect, he caresses me like he did the keys, his fingers stroking my skin, but it’s over too soon. He pulls back, and while I’m still reeling, he leans in and drops a soft kiss on my forehead. “Goodnight.”

  Blinking in a daze, I watch as he stands and leaves the room, taking the music and the heat with him until I’m shivering, my fingers touching my lips.

  What did I do?

  I look down at my clipboard with a frown, my pen tapping against the side of it as I look at the ever growing list of things to do to get us ready for touring on Monday.

  “Ah-ha! Got you, you little bastard,” I chirp with glee, as I tick off a couple of the items on the list with my red pen, the satisfying feeling of seeing the board covered with little red checks makes me smile.

  ‘Simple things please simple minds,’ my mum always used to say to me. She used to love teasing me about my stationary habit and how I would have a list for every occasion. I frown again as I think of my mum, which in turn makes me think of everything that has happened in the last week. I miss my parents, but what hurts more is that they haven't reached out to me. I could be dead in a ditch somewhere and they don’t care, all because of my job choice. I sigh and put down my pen, turning to my emails. I came in early today after I managed to convince Blake to give me a lift. I thought I would have to offer him my firstborn child or bribe him, but he just shrugged and said he needed the extra practice anyway. It would be a squeeze for the others later, but they should all fit in Liam’s car. The drive over had been quiet and tense, but surprisingly not uncomfortable. After our little kiss the other night, I had worried how it would affect our relationship, but Blake had just carried on as if it had never happened. Which is fine by me, as I have no idea how to deal with kissing one of my employees, especially when I suspect I have feelings for four of his co-workers, and not just the ‘I wanna see you naked’ kinda feelings. I click through my emails, sending off a few responses, but everything seems to be in order.