by Max Henry
I smile at his recollection of our past conversation. “Yeah. But after a while I enjoyed how I felt when I could actually play a piece start to finish. It became my fallback on tough days, you know?”
He nods, patting the floor between his bent legs.
I scoot into the space, tucking my knees under his to sit Indian style with my back against his front.
His hands find the muscles in my back, massaging gently as I continue to give him the truncated version of events.
“Dad stepped out on Mum when I was a teenager. I was eleven when I started to question his habits. I was fifteen when it all made sense. In those years between, it was rough. He’d feed me lies so that Mum would hear them from me, and not him. I think he thought if I was spinning the yarn about where he was, she was more likely to believe it. But he slipped up, a lot. Credit card bills with unexplained charges. Constant phone calls where they’d hang up after Mum answered. And sometimes he’d forget to even tell his mates that he was using them for an alibi.”
“Sounds like a swell guy.”
“The best,” I say with loaded sarcasm. “Anyway, at fourteen Mum could legally leave me at home alone. So one night she went to his work to wait for him. He walked out, didn’t see her there, and drove straight to his mistress’s. Led Mum right to the place.”
“All over?”
I shake my head. “That’s half the reason why I’m distant from them now. She let him stay. And he never apologized for what he did. I resent her for being so weak, and I hate him for being so cruel.”
“Harsh.”
“Truthful.”
“How does that impact you playing violin, though?” His fingers work my shoulders as he talks, kneading, caressing, setting me alight.
“I played to drown out the sound of them arguing. I’d shut my door, pick up my violin, and play until the fingers of my left hand bore angry red indents from the strings.”
“To be honest, I would have thought that would make you hate it more.” He stops massaging, instead sliding his arms around my front to pull me back flush with him.
I melt into his embrace, loving how comfortable and safe it feels to have somebody literally protecting me from the world around us. The irony isn’t lost on me: here I am, supposedly accompanying him to make him feel better, and so far that’s all he’s done for me.
“What about you?” I ask as I slide my hands over his forearms. “Why did you start to play?”
“Got told a girl I liked thought musos were cool.”
I chuckle, twisting to look up at him. He grins down at me, eyes soft as he traces his gaze across my features to settle on my mouth.
“That’s terrible, Rey,” I tease, acutely aware his line of sight hasn’t moved. “You’re supposed to have some epic backstory about how it was what you were born to do.”
“What can I say?” He shrugs. “I was born to be a disappointment, so it’s only fitting my backstory is too.”
“Don’t,” I whisper, turning in his hold to sit side-on. “Don’t put yourself down so casually like that.”
“It’s easier than complimenting myself.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” He frowns. “It just is.”
I reach up and run my fingers along his jaw, testing the coarseness of the hair there. “How do you make it through life?” I whisper the words, not expecting an answer.
It was more of a rhetorical question. I know how heavy it feels on the days where I get down, how loaded it can be to have something disappointing happen in your life that takes the wind from your sails. But to feel that every day, without reason, purely because you’re unhappy to be yourself?
I can’t imagine the stress that would put on a person.
A couple walk by with suitcases in tow, headed for the exit. The spell is broken as Rey pulls his head from my touch, resting it against the wall instead. I feel unwelcome in his arms, and yet he doesn’t let go, just acts indifferent by refusing to look at me, let alone talk.
It’s an oxymoron for his life, it seems. On the outer, here’s this guy who you’d think sheds conflict like water off a duck’s back, but on the inside there’s a man who hangs on to the things that mean the most to him like his life depends on it.
I guess, in a way, it does.
Content for the time being, I turn so that I face outward again, sliding his left arm up over my shoulder and against the side of my neck as I nestle into his front. He leans down once the couple has left the terminal and places a gentle kiss to the top of my head.
“Sleep, kitty. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
Somehow I think it’s going to be his hardest one yet.
THIRTY-THREE
Rey
“Shadows” - Red
“Time to wake up, babe.” I lean across and kiss her temple as the flight attendant announces we’ve started our descent.
We caught the red-eye flight after what can only be described as one uncomfortable as fuck evening on the terminal floor. Uncomfortable, but nice. It felt good to be needed. I felt good to have somebody happy to just be. No expectations, no schedule to keep. Just her and me, chilling, being, existing.
I never knew how much I missed that until I realized it was something I’ve never had.
Without a doubt, it would have been more practical to stay at Tabby’s, but after the showdown last night I can’t blame the woman for wanting to have the space away from her roommate. Café Girl tore me a new asshole after I shoved four hundred dollars in her bag as we headed for the door. Bitch refused to take the bills from my hand, so what else was I going to do? I can’t up and kidnap her roommate and expect her to cover costs on her own.
No matter how much she doesn’t approve.
I wasn’t being intentionally difficult; that’s just who I am.
“Kitty.” I nudge her arm when she refuses to wake.
Her eyes open and shut a few times before she straightens in her seat and stretches out. “Are we there?”
“Almost. Put your belt on.”
Messed up hair, and next to no makeup, she’s still the best thing I’ve sat beside in a long time. “Feel better?”
She shrugs, eyeballing the attendant who waits on her to buckle up. “Maybe. This whole thing still feels so surreal.”
“I know, but I’m happy you came.” I reach out and ruffle her hair.
Not the smoothest thing to do, I know, but I’m awkward when I’m nervous. And nervous is exactly what I am. Fuck—I didn’t sleep a wink last night, arms around her while I stared at the ceiling. My mind swirled like a fucking kaleidoscope, unable to focus on any one thought in particular, good or bad.
What if she freaks out under pressure and heads home?
What if the guys don’t make her feel welcome? Or Wally won’t let her play?
What if this whole idea is a mistake on my part and she doesn’t change a goddamn thing?
Tabby doesn’t say anything more as the flight attendant moves on. Simply runs her fingers through her ruffled hair and then pushes her head back into the seat to indicate she’s done.
I roll my neck to face the window, watching the city grow beneath us as we come in to land. I honestly thought she’d change her mind when Kendall gave her that out. After all, I’d just wrapped up being a right asshole at the mini-mart down the street. It wasn’t my conscious intention to make her mad enough to refuse to come, but maybe that’s what my subconscious wanted out of it all?
Why else would I beg her to join me, and then be a right fucking bastard about it?
Am I scared of letting her get close? A little. Am I terrified of failing to get better with her guidance and merely pulling her under with me? Totally.
It’s one thing to loathe the journey you’re on when it’s this troubled and dark, but it’s a whole other level of assholery to forcibly take somebody along for the ride.
“Who’s picking us up?”
I turn back to face her, smacked yet again with how fucking lucky I
am. “Rick’s making the trip.” Why the hell a good soul like her wants to get messed up with one like mine, I don’t know.
“How much trouble are you in?” She lifts an eyebrow, showing the hint of a smile.
I grin. “Loads.” She makes it totally worth it, though.
A sigh falls from her lush lips as she leans her head against my shoulder. “I hope they honestly don’t mind having me along. You better not be making it out to be less of a problem than it is.”
I totally am, but I’m also convinced they’ll soon see the method in my madness when they witness what Tabby does for me. I’ve found the fucking Holy Grail. Like hell I’m letting it go over something as petty as luggage allowance.
“They love you. You made a good impression the first time they met you.”
“I was a bitch the very first time we met,” she says with a hint of humor.
“And I was a right cunt, so we’re equal.”
“Rey.” Her loose fist collides with my chest. “Watch your language. There are kids on this plane.”
Right. Woops.
“Guess I shouldn’t make any moves on you then, huh?”
She lets out a disgruntled sigh, but I know she was thinking about it. Fuck knows I was.
The journey through the airport to get her luggage is predictably boring and even more frustrating when some idiot announces to the whole fucking terminal, it seemed like, who I am. Seriously. Half these people probably don’t listen to rock music. And if they do, another half again more than likely stick to the old classics.
I’m not that much of a big deal. Not outside our tour, anyway.
“What are you doing here, man?” the guy asks as though we’re old college buddies. “I saw you had to cancel a show, but didn’t expect to find you here. Thought you were sick, dude.”
“I’m traveling,” I say bluntly.
He nods, as though I just explained the theory of relativity. “Business?”
“Well.” I rub my nose as I grimace at the fucking absurdity of this. “The rest of the band aren’t here, so I’m gonna go ahead and let you work that one out for yourself.”
Tabby tugs on my arm, her bags now at our feet. “Come on.”
I snatch the duffle before she has a chance to grab both that and her violin case. Fuck. I travelled with the clothes on my back. Not as though I have anything to carry. Least I can do after being an asshat last night is help her out.
“Give me that one, too.” I yank the case out of her hold, much to her disgust.
We make it nearly to the terminal exit before Rick shows his face.
“As if this whole asinine thing wasn’t enough of a fucking pain in the ass, now you make me find parking here when it seems like every goddamn plane in the country has touched down.”
Huh—Rick grew some balls overnight. “How’s Wallace?” I thrust Tabby’s luggage at him.
He juggles the two, allowing her to take one from him. “Murderous.”
I rip the duffle bag from her and damn near throw it at Rick. “She doesn’t carry anything. Got it?”
“Rey,” she snaps. “Don’t be such an asshole.”
I forget she’s only known Rick for all of a minute in the scheme of things; he hasn’t had time to get on her nerves yet. “Fine.” I take the bag and sling it over my shoulder. “Where’s the car?”
“Parking building.”
I throw the guy a blank stare. “Haven’t you got a driver sitting in the fucking drop off lane?”
“No driver.” He glares at me as we step out into a much warmer climate than the one we left. “Dad’s making you suffer for this shit, Rey.”
Fuck me gently. “Like that, is it?”
“You cost him thousands, changing the tickets to tonight.”
Kitty throws me a cautionary glance. I shrug. Not much we can do about it now.
“No driver, no entertainment allowance, nothing unless he approves it first.”
Jesus—guy really does have my balls in a vise. “House arrest, then?”
“Pretty much.”
Kitty slides her hand in mine as we trail behind Rick to the car. His shitty little rental sits squeezed in between two hatchbacks that look like fucking SUVs in comparison.
“This all they have?” I ask as he jams her bags in the back.
His brow pinches while he takes two attempts to shut the trunk. “You aren’t the only one with a new budget.”
Fucking Wallace.
“You’re lucky I didn’t make you take a cab,” he levels as he opens the passenger door for Tabby. “Ladies up front.”
Only for her. Anybody else, and I’d kick up a stink about being relegated to the back. But for Tabby I’ll let it slide.
“The guys are already at rehearsal,” Rick explains as we all pile in. “They wanted to get a head start on things.”
“Why?” Fuck me—seriously, my knees are up around my goddamn ears.
Rick tosses a glare my way in the rearview before he pulls out of the parking space. “They wanted to have a backup plan in case you didn’t show.”
“I’ve never missed a performance until now.”
“You’ve also never skipped out without notice to fly halfway across the country on a whim.” He smiles at Tabby. “No offense, Tabitha.”
“None taken,” she murmurs.
I twist to lie down on the back seat while Rick drives. I know I said I’m not that much of a big deal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not well known enough that any paps lingering around the place wouldn’t have a field day with the possibilities behind why I’m in the back seat of a fucking micro-car while my manager drives the girl who played at our impromptu show around.
“Tell me when we get to the hotel, okay? I’m going to catch a few while I’m hiding down here.”
“Sure,” Rick mumbles.
Kitty spins in her seat to give me a soft smile. “Hard life, huh?”
“You wouldn’t know the fucking half of it.”
THIRTY-FOUR
Tabitha
“Wait” - Earshot
I have never, hand to my heart, in my goddamn life stepped into a place as swanky as this. There is glass absolutely everywhere. And if it’s not glass, it’s crystal. And if it’s not crystal, then it’s shiny, reflective brass that’s been polished to within an inch of its existence.
This is how the other half live. And no, I don’t mean the guys from Dark Tide, because they’re simply enjoying the illusion as much as I am while they’re here. I mean the fact that to the right of reception is row upon row of private boxes marked “Residents.”
Holy. Shit.
“You okay?” Rey smiles down at me while I scoop my jaw off the floor.
“This place is… I mean.…” I chuckle. “I literally have no words.”
“It’s one of the better ones.” He shrugs and heads for the bank of lifts where Rick already waits for a car.
One of the better ones. My apartment would fit inside this lobby.
I’m so out of my depth. My phone chimes in my pocket as I make my way over to the men.
K: You made it okay? I’m sorry, babe.
“Kendall,” I explain when Rey looks down at my phone.
T: Already forgiven. We made it. I’m so in over my head. This isn’t my world.
K: You’ll do fine. Just be yourself. Ring me later.
She signs off with a heart emoticon. I kill the screen and pocket the phone again as our ride arrives.
The doors slide open, and I’m reflected back at myself in all my hobo glory. I opted for comfortable since it was such an early flight, but now I’m reconsidering my previously “cute and casual” leggings and Ugg boots.
“I’m a goddamn hot mess,” I moan as we pile into the lift.
Rick ushers another guest out when they try to join, and then shuts the doors. He punches the button for one of the upper floors and steps back.
“You look fine.” Rey slings his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in. “Don’t panic.”
Yeah. I’m only being reintroduced to a group of guys I’ve spent barely a few hours with as the girl who’s on the tour to keep their lead singer in check. No pressure. None at all.
The lift doors open onto a hallway that’s wide enough to drive a freaking car down. Rick hesitates outside the lift and passes my luggage to Rey.
“I’ll see you downstairs in thirty and we’ll head over to rehearsal. I’ve told Toby you’re on your way.”
“Sure.” Rey gives him a nod, and then steers me in the opposite direction.
I stand perfectly still, hands folded before me, while he sets my things down outside what I assume is their suite, and pulls the key card from his wallet. “Fuckers better have tidied up before they left.”
I gesture to my current state of dress. “I’m not exactly high maintenance, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
He gives me a smile, and then pushes the door open.
I want to live here.
The enormous room is decorated more like a private residence than a hotel suite. Did they hire one of the empty apartments? Is that the level of pull you get being a globally recognized name?
No cliché TV mounted on the wall over a built-in shelf for your suitcase here. Nope. The large spacious living area looks out over a balcony that boasts an incredible view of the city below. The kitchen area is tucked away to the right, behind a wall so it’s not the first thing you see when you walk in. And leading off the main area are one, two, three, four rooms.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I stick my head in each door, unsure how I’ve missed it.
“Each room has its own,” Rey explains as he sets my bags down in the middle of the living space.
Sure enough, empty drink bottles, food wrappers, and clothing lie scattered all over the plush furniture.
“It’s just like they’re at home, I imagine,” I say, pointing to the mess.
Rey shoves a bunch of T-shirts aside and smiles sheepishly. “We’re boys. We’re messy.”
“Honestly, I don’t care.” My hands clap together, loud in the huge room. “So where do I sleep?”
Upmarket style aside, surely one of these sofas folds out?
