Reflex

by Madelynne Ellis

  True enough, Xane Geist was seriously rocking his tuxedo. He might not be official royalty, but he was definitely rock star royalty, and he owned the red carpet as he sauntered along it towards the steps of the Lumière Theatre. White shirt, black bow tie and his inky hair flowing in a sleek sheet down his back. He was every cover artist’s wet dream. On top of that, he was doing the walk with both Luthor and Dani at his side. Hence the immediate frenzy of activity amongst the assembled journalists, photographers, and TV crews.

  Dammit, that man knew how to turn heads.

  Thanks to the likes of Bang! Magazine, his fluid sexuality was known to the world, and he certainly wasn’t hiding it. One arm sat casually draped around Luthor’s shoulders, the other looped around Dani’s waist as they posed for the obligatory photographs.

  Spook, in contrast, hung back a little, keeping within the body of the crowd.

  “Your friends are hot,” Alle muttered.

  “Mm hmm. Though I hope that doesn’t mean your attention’s wandering.”

  “No. You think? No.” She only had eyes for him.

  His smile lit up his blue eyes with merriment. “I’m not panicking, Alle. Are you?”

  She shook her head. “A little. I’m not really sure what the heck I’m doing here. Is he deliberately out to cause a scene?”

  “Probably. There’s a reason I own this crazy expensive piece of tailoring. It’s a necessity for keeping a certain someone out of trouble. Don’t for a minute believe this is my scene. I’d rather be rocking a pair of shorts on the beach with Paul and your mate Ronnie, but someone has to keep Xane from self-detonating.”

  “You don’t think that role falls down to his… paramours?” She nodded her head towards Luthor and Dani.

  Spook sighed. “Things are definitely calmer than in the past. There’s less worrying about whose bed he’s going to wind up in, but I’m not sure they’re necessarily good at keeping him out of trouble. I’m sure you’ve seen all the internet vids.”

  “They’re bogus.”

  “Are they?”

  What? They weren’t? “Really?”

  “I’m not saying many of them aren’t faked, but… He’s an exhibitionist, Alle, in case you hadn’t noticed.” There was a whole bank of photographers pointing cameras at him. “Also, an addict. And, why the fuck is she here?” His attention tracked off to one side. “Well that has the potential to ensure things go seriously tits up.”

  “Who is that?” Alle asked following his line of sight to the mob of journalists jammed against one of the barriers at the far end of the open air, glass roofed corridor.

  “Ava Leigh. Seriously, is there a reason why that woman can’t just fuck off and die?”

  “Wow,” she responded to the venom in his voice. She’d never heard him be so vehement in his loathing of a person. Not that Ms Leigh didn’t deserve it. Alle knew who she was, or at least she was aware of her rep, and was also intimately familiar with the special Black Halo exposé she’d been behind.

  “Will she cause trouble?”

  “She is trouble. Walking talking trouble with a camera and a mic.”

  “Xane, I didn’t know you were a film fanatic,” one journalist shouted.

  “You’ve all very short memories. I only missed last year because the timing didn’t work.”

  “Xane, when are you expecting the new album to drop?”

  “Are there Black Halo ties to the film tonight?”

  “When are we going to see your acting debut?”

  “Are you finally over the death of your former drummer?”

  Which clown had asked that? As if anyone just got over something as huge as losing your best friend. Alle frowned, irritated on Xane’s behalf, until Spook’s nudge reminded her she was supposed to look happy. Xane never even blinked at the questions hurled at him.

  “They’re hideous,” Alle mouthed to Spook. She had an iron grip on his hand. “How do you stand these vultures?”

  “By keeping my mouth shut,” he said.

  “Which one of these lovelies is your date for the night?”

  “Is it true you’re fucking your new drummer?”

  Dear God, Luthor was right there.

  Xane responded by pulling Luthor close enough to kiss. Although their lips didn’t actually touch, a million flashes went off in their faces nonetheless.

  “How does your girlfriend feel about this?”

  “She’s right here. Why don’t you ask her? Honestly, guys, get with the times. Have you never heard of polyamory before now?”

  “How long before your label calls to give you all shit about this?” Alle asked Spook quietly enough that she was sure the press wouldn’t hear.

  “I think they’re over the notion of containing it, and are embracing the LGBT, alternative relationships angle. It’s who he is, and he’s never really hidden it. It might lose us a few sales, but it’ll likely gain us just as many. Leastways, that’s what the money men are praying.”

  “It’s not so much polyamory as your personal harem though, isn’t it, Xane? With poor Daniella as the token woman. I suppose you needed to replace Elspeth.”

  “He didn’t though, did he?” Alle asked. Black Halo’s former keyboardist was taking some personal time.

  Spook shook his head. “Ava really is a cow.”

  Xane, sporting his trademark cat’s eyes contact lenses continued to smile. “Ms Leigh. How delightful to see you again so soon. Still desperate to be indoctrinated into the clan, I see. For the last time, woman, much as I enjoy a nice cunt, I fear yours would permanently shrivel my dick.”

  She gave a slow clap. “Delightfully toxic as always. I’m not tawdry enough to want into your pants. God only knows what I’d catch.”

  “Hm, must be pictures of your identical twin that Spook has in his groupie scrapbook?” He shot a confirmatory glance in Spook’s direction, who rattled off a date and time and what sounded disturbingly like a catalogue number.

  Ava burned with indignation. “I have never soiled myself with you. I only went with Ash the once.”

  Some of those around her laughed. Seething, she turned and shoved a pathway to the back of the ranks.

  “Nice, Ava,” one of the other paparazzo’s jibed. “Bet you’re super proud of your Gore’s Whores pin badge and certificate. Must be endlessly disappointing to know you stuffed up getting your claws into the main man.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Don’t remember seeing the mention of you going undercover in your exposé article.”

  “Fuck off. I didn’t print anything that wasn’t true.”

  “One more photo, Xane. On the steps,” someone with seemingly some authority called, and they were arranged halfway up the grand entrance staircase. Finally, that over, they were free to enter the theatre, and settle into seats to see the film – a glorious, fantasy biopic about a former rock legend.

  -27-

  Post show saw Alle enjoying canapés and champagne while Xane and Spook chatted with old acquaintances. She’d been standing with Dani, but the other woman had headed to the ladies, and not wanting to be part of a cliché, she hadn’t tagged along. With little to do besides eavesdrop on the conversations of people she didn’t recognise, Alle had fired off a string of texts to Ronnie, and was just wading through his replies—he and Rock Giant didn’t seem to have done a whole lot of film watching at the beach—when someone nudged her elbow.

  “Sorry,” she muttered automatically. Assuming they wished to get past, only for the suited individual to stay put instead of moving around her when she took a step back.

  Alle glanced up, straight into an unexpectedly familiar visage. A shock of red hair the exact colour as hers framed a deeply freckled face. The bridge of the man’s nose was sunburned red. He had a wide thin smile that hooked upwards at one side, creasing his cheeks and creating a web of laughter lines around his mossy green eyes.

  “Princess? It is you. What the devil are you doing here?”

  Alle stared at the n
otepad poking out of his top pocket. He had a microphone tucked into the side-pocket of his dinner jacket, and his bowtie was crooked, and obviously on elastic.

  “Marshall. My God. How?” she gasped, throwing her arms around her brother to give him a hug. He patted her back in return. “What in heaven’s name are you doing here?”

  “Uh-uh,” he shook his fox-like mane of hair. “I asked first. Got to say, I wasn’t expecting to see my little sister here dolled up like a film star. That’s the sort of excitement a brother ought to know about, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. Maybe. I didn’t know. It was all very last minute. Brothers ought to spill such things too.”

  “Hey, I’m working. And, not so very last minute, methinks, in your case.” He turned her about so that he could take in her outfit – a sheer sheath of silver-green that perfectly complemented her colouring.

  “This has nothing to do with me.” Alle curled her hands backward to indicate her outfit. “A friend picked it out for me.” She deliberately didn’t mention that friend was Xane Geist. Marshall would only interrogate her further, and he’d probably think it weird that a man she wasn’t sleeping with, and in fact barely knew, had procured a designer frock for her to wear for one evening. To be fair, she found it a little odd herself. But not enough to have turned down the gift. Although, if she’d known it would be this manic and could have persuaded Spook to sit it out too, then maybe…

  “A friend you’re here with?” her brother prompted, sending a sly glance out over the room as if he meant to pinpoint her date.

  “A friend of that friend.” she said. Marshall was sporting the same ill-fitting dinner jacket he’d bought for his first university Christmas prom.

  “But a guy, right?” He wrinkled up his nose, which only emphasized the fact that the sun-reddened skin across the bridge was starting to peel.

  “Yes, a guy. Don’t you own sun cream, Marsh? You haven’t half caught the sun. At least tell me you have some Aloe Vera to put on it.” Honestly, he was as prone to frazzling as she was, and ought to have known better than to soak up that much UV damage by standing around, almost definitely minus a hat. The red skin along the parting in his hair proved it.

  “I did put some on, this morning, but you’d be crispy fried too if you’d been standing outside for days watching endless parades. So, where is this loaded Lothario of yours, then? And how the heck have you snagged him? What is he, press? A director? Script writer? Not an actor? Please forever-loving God tell me you’ve not hooked up with an actor?”

  “I’ve not,” she sniggered. Marshall had always been overly dramatic when it came to her relationships. Ergo, he’d never approved of a single blessed one, besides Callum Fairchild in Year 8, and that’d only been because Callum had bribed him with Maoams before and after school every day. Marshall was still addicted to the cola ones now. She always included a bag in his Christmas and birthday presents. “And he’s not a Lothario.”

  “Boyfriend,” he grouched.

  A tingle of anxiety shot through her insides at the description. It didn’t feel accurate. She and Spook weren’t securely committed enough for such a label. They were spending time together. Dating. Trying things out.

  “About. But tell me about you being here. I didn’t think Cannes was the sort of thing Top Loaded covered.”

  “Top Loaded!” he cackled. “Little Princess, you are so out of the loop. Don’t you follow my Instagram feed? I’ve been with two other outfits since them. They’re ancient history.”

  “Oh!” All she’d ever seen on his feed was heaps of gossipy trash and over-exaggerated kissy pouts. Disappointing, from the man who’d sworn blind he was going to be a serious investigative journalist.

  “Here.” He handed over his business card. “I’m with Bang! now.”

  “Bang! Magazine.” Alle’s eyes bulged as she struggled to keep the horror from her voice. Sure enough, there was the Bang! logo right next to his details on the card.

  Marshall regarded her curiously, but then shrugged whatever thought he had off. “That’s just one department. Along with books, podcasts etcetera. I’m not assigned to one particular division. I’m more free-flowing.”

  “Right.” This was bad. Oh, so hideously bad. How had she failed to be aware of this? Heat drizzled from her skin, leaving her clammy beneath the silken sheath of her dress. “So you chase pretty people and snoop into their private lives.”

  He laughed. “Whoa, listen to you on your soapbox. I think you’d better tell me who this mystery man of yours is. Sounds like prime material for an inside scoop.”

  “Fuck off. You’re not reporting on my private life.”

  In any case, surely if he’d seen her arrive, then he already knew. And if he’d happened to mention the connection to his boss, her eyes had probably lit up with glee. Still, he wouldn’t use her as a fishing exercise, would he? His own sister? Knowing Marshall and his all-consuming ambition to claw his way to the top of the journalistic trash heap, he totally would. He totally bleedin’ would.

  “If you were outside watching the parade, I’m sure you already know who I arrived with.”

  His sickening grin didn’t waver. “Ah, come on, A. Allow me the kick I’m going to get out of hearing you say it. So I can then laugh at how fucking moronic you are.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, come off it sis. Xane Geist, really? You can do way better than that.”

  He thought she was here with Xane?

  “What are you, one among the many? The man’s so slick, he’s slimy.”

  “Well, thank you for sharing that opinion. I’m not here with Xane.”

  “Don’t shitting play games, Alle. I know you had a monster crush on him all through college, and I saw all the texts you sent Flynn when you got to work on that re-release they did after their old drummer got toasted. Weren’t you supposed to work on their new album too, until you bowed out to please Dad?”

  If his intention was to irritate the fuck out of her, then Marshall was succeeding. Of all of her brothers he’d always had the knack of it. Seething, she ground her teeth, refusing to give into her wrath. The reason she’d had to bow out of working with Black Halo on their album hadn’t so much been their dad’s fault, but rather the overwhelming lack of support she’d got from her siblings. If they’d pulled their weight, instead of bowing out of their responsibilities… But no, their careers, their difficult relationships with their father had taken priority over hers. They’d left her to singlehandedly manage his end of life care. And then the buggers had left her to nurse Ewan when he’d returned form the Arctic minus toes too. At least Ewan had apologised profusely, and tried to do something nice for her by financing this trip.

  Of course, now wasn’t the moment to address all that. Instead the bitterness sat, swollen on her tongue. If she said even a word about it, that would be that. It’d all come pouring out, and she’d make a spectacle of them both. His boss would love that. She’d find a way to make it reflect badly on Black Halo. It’d have nothing to do with them, but Ava would find a way of twisting things.

  “I’m going to walk away now, Marshall.”

  “Wait,” he grasped her arm. “Come on, Princess, you know I’m just looking out for you. It’s what brothers do. I don’t want to see you hurt, and rock stars are bad news.” His fingers dug a little too hard into her arm.

  “Not to me they’re not. I work with them every day. Sound engineer, remember. And in any case our relationship is purely professional.”

  “Right. That’s good, because they treat women like shit.”

  “You know fuck all about them, Marsh.”

  “I probably know a fuck of a lot more than you do. Geist’s been in and out of rehab. Their former keyboardist’s a total fruit loop, and mister purer than pure is anything but saintly. Check out Bang! Online tomorrow if you don’t believe me. There’s more than one woman who’s regretted her involvement with him.”

  “According to who, Marsh? Your twis
ted bitch of a boss? Because every word out of her mouth is total gospel, right?”

  “She’s not my boss.”

  “No, but you do know who I mean.”

  He sighed and relaxed his grip, taking a step back from her too. “Be careful, Alle. Seriously. We both know how blinkered you are when it comes to people’s faults.”

  Was he seriously making another jibe at her over her looking out for their father? Sure, in many ways their dad had been an absolute git of a man, but leaving him to die alone in misery had never been on the cards. In any case, in some ways Marshall was every bit as big of a judgemental wanker.

  “I think you need to piss off and mind your own business now, Marshall.”

  He continued to smirk, as he sniffed loudly. “Certainly. See you around, Little Princess. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you wind up getting hurt by that dick.”

  The only dick out to hurt her was him.

  “Fuck you,” she mouthed towards the back of his head. She watched him weave a path through the crowd. Then made a beeline for the ladies. As luck would have it, she bumped into Dani exiting. “Can you pass on a message please? I’ve run into someone and it’s best if I leave. Would you let Spook know I’ve gone back to the hotel?”

  “Sure, but why don’t you just tell him? I’m sure he’d go with you.”

  “No. It’s best if we’re not seen together, but don’t say that to him. Give me a minute or two to get out of here before you pass the message on.”

  “All right,” Dani agreed. She was kind like that. “But I don’t understand. If there’s trouble brewing, isn’t it best to stick together?”

  “It’s kind of complicated to explain. I just think this is for the best.” No way was she giving Marshall anything. No damned way. Let him think she was with Xane. Better that than being ammunition Ava and her diabolical cronies could level at Spook as proof that he was a fraud. He wasn’t. Admittedly, she had no way of proving that, but she believed him to be the kind, compassionate man she’d spoken to for months over the phone. If he’d hurt her because he’d run, it was only because he was afraid, not out of malice.