Broken Melody (Graffiti On Tour Series)

by Jennifer Miller

  Maddox simply smiles but doesn’t comment other than to say, “Just tell us where you’d like us.”

  “We have several different back drops we’re using for the shoot. For now, I’d like to start with the simple white wall. Follow me.”

  Garrett leads us to a different part of the huge warehouse. We walk around a corner and find several backdrops. One has strings of lights hanging from the ceiling against a black backdrop. Another is a brick wall. A plain white wall is the third, and the fourth is a large backdrop that has the band’s name and all of the instruments and microphones in place.

  Maddox moves to the white wall as we’re told and I awkwardly stand next to him waiting for instruction. “My understanding is that they would like some sexy photos of the two of you. I suggest you simply do your thing and pretend I’m not here.”

  I look at Maddox and raise my brows at his comment of doing our thing. Maddox simply grins and pulls me into his arms. Immediately, I begin to hear the shutter click and I feel uncomfortable. Maddox’s arms are wrapped around me, so I put mine around his neck, but it doesn’t feel natural by any means.

  “Relax, Sailor,” Garrett instructs. “Don’t look so stiff.”

  “I’m trying not to,” I mumble under my breath. Maddox pushes my hair over my shoulder and puts his head close to mine. Our lips are so close they’re almost touching. The small space feels crowded, I see people milling about watching the shoot, but not Nixon, Rocco and Henley funnily enough. Perhaps they’ve done enough of these things to last a lifetime. Closing my eyes, trying to block everyone else out, I tell myself to get into this. “I’m struggling,” I say. And Maddox drops his arms from me. For a moment I think I’ve made him angry and I’m afraid to open my eyes.

  “Can you give us a minute?” Maddox asks the photographer and I open my eyes to find him looking softly at me.

  “Of course,” Garrett says to Maddox before yelling, “Everyone out. Let’s take five.”

  “Just relax,” he tells me while I look at the ground feeling annoyed with myself. “It’s just me,” he says and I almost laugh as if that’s supposed to make me feel better. “Let’s just have fun with this, okay? They want us to do a photo shoot like this because as we know, sex sells. Our music will do the rest but at least this will get them to pay attention.”

  “I understand that, and I agreed to it. I just can’t loosen up.”

  He looks around, I’m guessing making sure everyone has left. Then he moves to me, takes my chin in his hand, and moves his head closer to mine. “Sailor, look at me.” I do, but not exactly at his eyes. He has a very nice chin. Of course, it’s difficult to see with his beard and all, but he keeps it very well maintained and I love the way- “Sailor,” he interrupts my thoughts. “Look in my eyes.” Reluctantly I do so. My dark eyes meet his green ones and he simply holds my gaze, not looking away. His eyes are soft and intense at the same time. They hold kindness, yet at the same time, I see heat in them. For me. And it makes my toes curl in my shoes. He makes me feel butterflies, yes, but like always I also feel something deeper, something more – at least to me. And in this moment of discomfort, it’s everything. I feel safe.

  “Maddox,” I whisper, “I see you. I really see you,” I tell him and I wonder how long its been since anyone has bothered to look at him. Everyone just sees the surface: the actions, the words he says, behaviors that get called into question, and I understand that, it’s easy to do. But I wonder if anyone has bothered to really look deeper?

  He smiles, and it’s beautiful. “I see you too,” he says and I think he really does.

  My body loosens, and his arms wrap around my waist once more. This time, when he moves toward me, I lift up on my toes and find his lips first. I kiss him with everything I have. I don’t pay attention to the reasons that I shouldn’t be doing this, I just let myself feel. I let myself want. I let myself need.

  His mouth moves smoothly over mine. A groan emits from him and my pulse races, my body becomes light and liquid. Nothing exists except the two of us. Until a throat clears and Maddox and I pull apart.

  “I take it you are uh, ready?” Garrett asks.

  Maddox looks at me, lifting his eyebrows, a silent question. I nod. “We’re ready.”

  Garrett yells, “Makeup!” and I have to refrain from laughing when my red lipstick is removed from Maddox’s face.

  This time when Maddox takes me in his arms and the shutter starts clicking, I don’t care. I tune everything out but Maddox. I let myself get lost in him. He smirks at me, and I smirk back. He runs his nose along my jaw line and I close my eyes and lean my head back for more. He turns me so my back is against his stomach, and I look out at the camera blankly, while I feel his chin on my head. His hand slides up my thigh, I lean my head back to lay on his shoulder. He twists me around and shoves his fingers into my hair while holding my gaze.

  I’ve never been so turned on in my life. This shoot feels like nothing but foreplay. When he suddenly lifts me and places me against the white wall, I look over his shoulder, my nails dig into his back, and he watches me. I can feel his hardness pressed against me and I thank god that I’m not the only one feeling the effects of this shoot.

  “Okay, that’s great. I think we got all that we need,” Garrett says. Maddox moves to set me down, my body rubbing against his suggestively the whole way. Our breaths are coming quick, and I can feel every place on my body his hands have been.

  “Sailor,” he whispers, but before he can continue, Rocco, Henley and Nixon have all joined us and we’re being told to move to the black backdrop with all the lights.

  He holds my hand the whole way over, not that it’s far. An assistant comes by and offers Maddox and I water. I take a few sips and then set it back down on the tray and immediately afterwards a makeup artist approaches and touches up my makeup, particularly my lipstick, before walking away. I notice they also powder Maddox’s nose and I can’t help but grin at him making him roll his eyes.

  “Okay, let’s take a few photos as a group, and then let’s do the clothing change for the rest.” The guys all nod but I had no idea we were going to do a clothing change. God knows what they’re going to have me wear next.

  “Alright, I’d like Maddox and Sailor in the middle and the rest of you to flank them,” Garrett instructs. “Sailor and Maddox, face each other, Nixon, move in closer to Sailor, that’s it. Henley, cross your arms over your chest, that’s good. Rocco, how about you stand facing front but look off a little to the side – perfect,” I hear the shutter click as Maddox and I face each other and he’s once again holding my gaze. I still see some heat behind his eyes, but he’s also wearing that maddening smirk of his and I’m pretty sure I’m returning it.

  “Good, good. Sailor, look at the camera, but Maddox stay looking at her. Great. That’s good,” Garrett instructs several other poses and has us move around in various positions before he sends us off on a break and then for a wardrobe change.

  I’m taken to a large curtained off area they’ve made in the warehouse instead of them taking me back to where I was before which catches my curiosity and seems a bit strange. They hand me an outfit and I move behind a changing screen that’s behind the curtained area. This time I’ve been given tight dark blue jeans and a deep plum strapless top. They’ve given me black studded heels to wear; they are to die for. When I emerge, they coo over the outfit, lift the top up in the back, but no other alterations are needed. They fluff my hair and remove my red lipstick and change it to a pinkish nude color.

  When they’re finished I walk from around the changing area to find the guys in jeans as well, blue or black, with various shirts. Henley has a vintage rock band shirt, Rocco a short sleeved white shirt, Nixon is wearing a t-shirt with a cross and skull on it and Maddox is wearing a button down black shirt with dark jeans that is unbuttoned a little more than would be normal. He of course manages to make it look sexy.

  He smiles when he sees me, his eyes telling me exactly what he thinks about t
he way I look. We’re rushed back to the backdrops and this time with the lights behind us, they have us all stand at various spots, separate from one another while looking at the camera.

  “You look totally douchey, Rocco,” Henley says. “Why are you staring at the camera like that?”

  “I think the correct question Henley is, why the fuck are you looking at me instead of the camera?” Rocco asks.

  “It’s hard. I just can’t take my eyes off of you,” Henley says making me laugh.

  “I’m just trying to get my smolder down like Maddox. I tried practicing it in the mirror for hours, and I think I’ve finally got it,” Nixon says making me laugh again.

  “It doesn’t matter how hard you try, you won’t get it right,” Maddox says cockily making me smile. While I won’t admit it, the truth is, he’s probably right about that.

  The guys continue to banter back and forth while several photos are taken. We’re then escorted to the backdrop that has all the instruments and microphones waiting for us.

  “Okay, I’d like for you guys to play your single that you’re releasing next week so I can take photos of you while you sing.”

  We all get into position, but before we begin, Maddox says, “Get rid of the microphone stands, we don’t need them. Let’s remember that the acoustics may impact our sound a bit so expect it to be a bit different. Sailor, come over here,” he says and I walk to him. “Let’s sing standing beside each other. Move to the music, whatever you feel, and we’ll sing to each other too. Just play it up.”

  “Okay,” I nod and when the music begins to play, like usual, drums first, then the guitar, then the keyboard, Maddox starts singing his verse first. I move my body to the music and wait for my turn to sing. At first, even over the music I can hear the camera clicking, but once it’s my verse, I’m able to do what I always do. I let go. I feel the lyrics, I sing them with every part of me, and allow myself to forget everything else.

  Maddox and I move, we sing to each other, I move next to Henley and dance by him when he has a guitar solo. It’s perfect. It feels like we are in sync and I know without a doubt that the photos will be amazing because they will be real, they’ll be us – the real us. Because we can’t help but become a slave to the music we love.

  When we finish the song, the last notes ring out and die in the air as pure silence greets us. For a moment, it holds, but then applause breaks out and I realize that everyone in the studio moved to our location to listen to us. I can’t help but smile. It’s like our first concert. A mini concert. “She’s great, right?” Maddox asks and I swear… my god I swear right there and then, with him looking at me and smiling like their amazing talent is magnified because of me I have a revelation. I not only feel like I suddenly belong with them, that I’m part of this talented group, but I realize as Maddox leads them to all clap for me, that I’ve got it bad for Maddox Colt. God help me.

  “She’s not coming,” Henley says for the tenth time. “She’s definitely not coming.”

  “What if something happened?” Rocco asks. “Call again.”

  “I’ve called at least ten times already,” I tell him.

  “I’m sure she didn’t just bail on us. Something’s wrong,” Rocco adds.

  “Like what?” Nixon questions before they all start to hypothesize about where in the hell Sailor could be.

  I close my phone after trying to reach her yet again, I said I’ve tried ten times, but its probably been more. Each and every time my call goes straight to voicemail. Anxiety starts making me pace the room and obsessively push the call button over and over with the same result. Where could she be? “Do any of you have Britt’s phone number?” They all shake their heads no, and I curse wishing at least one of us had thought to obtain it so we could have it to call right now. Looking at my phone once more to see the time, I finally declare, “I’m going over there.”

  “We’ll come with you,” Rocco says but as soon as he started speaking I was already shaking my head.

  “No. I’m going to go alone. I don’t think it would be a good idea for us to all barge in there demanding answers. Plus someone should stay here in case she shows up.”

  “Oh, and you think that you should be the one to go and talk with her?” Henley asks. And really, why am I surprised he would?

  “Actually, yes. I do.” And before he or anyone else can say another word, I turn to leave, “I’ll text or call you as soon as I know something.”

  My head is spinning with thoughts of Sailor. Thinking back to the photo shoot a couple days ago, I don’t remember her seeming like anything was wrong when it was all over. In fact, I felt like we connected on a different level that day. Sure, we had to put on a show for people, but first of all she chose to do what Rick asked without much question, and secondly, I’m confident that what began as an act, didn’t end that way.

  As soon as we had changed back into our street clothes the limo took us back to the arena to obtain our cars, since we had all driven there that morning. I walked Sailor to hers, she thanked me for helping her during the shoot and I smiled and told her I’d see her today. I still remember her smile and wave as she drove away.

  All day yesterday I fought with myself. I wanted to call or text her. Ask her if she wanted to get together for dinner or just hang out. I found myself working on another song – something I’ve been able to do in a new way recently - and was thinking about how much I would love to be with her and all the things I want to do with her, and to her. More than anything I wanted to ask her if she was feeling the same things I was when we were together. I wanted to have the balls to see if she wanted to see where things could go between us. I wrestled with feeling like I would end up fucking things up like always and thinking I was acting like a girl. The photo shoot felt like one long erotic tease and I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Doing my best to push the feelings aside I reminded myself I would see her today and kept myself busy.

  Now, I regret that choice. What is the big deal about a phone call? Or a text to say hi? Something is wrong. I can feel it. I may still be getting to know Sailor, but I have seen enough to know that this isn’t like her.

  Pulling up to her apartment building I have a brief moment of hesitation about going up and pounding on her door. But, the fact remains she didn’t call any of us, and something really could be wrong. Without another thought I race to her door and do just that. When no one answers initially, I do it again. And again.

  “Sailor! Answer the door. It’s Maddox.”

  Finally, I exhale as I hear steps inside and the lock turn. Feeling anger begin to rise over the fact she left us all to worry, I open my mouth to ask her where the hell she’s been, but when the door finally swings open, it reveals the face of Britt with a brush in her hand and an irritated look on her face.

  “Maddox? Why are you beating on the door?”

  “Is Sailor here?” I ask her and before she can invite me in, I’m pushing past her and looking around the room. I really don’t care if I’m being pushy and rude.

  “What do you mean? She told me she had rehearsal this morning. Why would she be here?”

  “She didn’t show up,” I tell her.

  Her eyes widen with obvious concern and she heads to what I’m guessing is Sailor’s room with me on her heels. “Sailor?” she knocks and I strain to hear, something; anything, but there’s nothing. “Sailor? Are you in there?” Britt asks again. I’m about to open the damn door myself but Britt is kinder than I am. “If you’re in there, I’m coming in.”

  When she opens the door, thank god it’s unlocked, the first thing I see is purple. She has a purple comforter on the bed and a hell of a lot of pillows. There’s also a lump under the blanket, but I’m not going to feel better until I see her face.

  “Sailor?” I say this time and move toward the bed. There are several Kleenex on the bedside table and a few have fallen on the floor.

  “Maddox?” I hear a small voice say in surprise and for a very brief moment I worry t
hat I’m not going to find her alone. I will not even hesitate to kick a dude’s ass, that much I know for sure. But when the blanket finally moves to reveal her face, my worry shifts to nothing but her. Seeing her red and swollen eyes and damp cheeks I move to sit on the bed beside her and immediately feel her forehead.

  “Are you sick?”

  “No,” she says. “It’s just a bad day. I’m sorry, I’m not going to be able to make practice today.”

  “Songbird, I’m aware of that. Practice started over an hour ago. I’ve been worried sick.”

  Her eyes widen and it’s clear she’s been caught up in whatever is going on and didn’t even realize how much time has passed. I reach out and push her hair out of her face. Pieces of it stick to her cheeks and she sniffles making my heart hitch in my throat.

  “Sailor, what’s wrong?” Britt asks approaching from the other side. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed me?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just…not a good day. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

  “Clearly something is wrong,” Britt says. “I’m going to go call in to work. I’m supposed to leave now, but I can try and reschedule my appointments.”

  “No!” Sailor says firmly. “You will do no such thing. I said I’m fine. I’ll be better tomorrow, okay? I just…I just need today.” Britt looks at her unconvinced and Sailor adds, “Seriously, Britt, if I needed you, I swear I would tell you. You know that.”

  “Britt,” I say getting her attention, “I’ve got this.” Standing from the bed, I grab my phone from my back pocket and send a group text to the guys telling them that Sailor is fine, but sick in bed and didn’t even realize what time it was. Then I kick off my shoes, and rip my shirt off over my head. Sailor and Britt’s eyes both widen in response and I almost laugh. “Wh-what are you doing?” Sailor asks.

  Moving to the other side of the bed I look at Britt kindly, “Excuse me,” I say to her and she raises a brow at me, but moves without question. “Looks like we’re hanging out here,” I tell Sailor as I pull down the blanket and slide underneath then turn to face her.