Mark Means Tested (Deff Book 3)

by Danni Fall

  "Should we be getting something for Mark?" Will asks.

  "Let him starve," Simon says around a mouthful of doughnut.

  "Behave," Zoe warns.

  "You're treating me like a bloody dog today."

  "I wonder why. He always asks you to order for him, what did he ask for? Fish finger sandwich again?"

  "With a lemonade," he says reluctantly.

  "You really ought to change that quorum of yours," Will says. "It's not sustainable to have it be four, it slows down your decision making."

  "I'll be sure to table a vote to change our articles of association," Zoe mutters.

  "You don't actually have those, do you? None of my other clients do."

  "We don't, no."

  "Then why do you have a quorum?"

  "Because we've got a lead singer who'd like our guitarist to starve to death. We need all the rules and regulations we can get."

  "Please, like I'm the problem," Simon says. "Least I'm here, fuck knows what Mark's doing."

  "I think we can hazard a guess," Joe says quietly.

  "Joe, I'm eating. I don't need the mental images." Simon looks at Will. "Why're we bothering talking to Solitaire?"

  "You're familiar with the idea of not biting the hand that feeds you, aren't you?"

  "Since when are Solitaire feeding us? Barely."

  "Eat with your mouth closed," Zoe instructs.

  "What about Maiden? Have you heard anything more from that Simon bloke at Maiden?"

  "It's Simeon," Joe says.

  "That's not actually a name, is it? It's just a weird way of saying Simon."

  "We shouldn't be discussing this before Mark's arrived."

  "It's not like it's illegal for us to talk about stuff until he arrives, is it? We just can't make decisions without him." No-one corrects Simon. "What about DMA or Victrola? You heard from them?"

  "You're obsessed," Zoe says as a waitress brings their food, awkwardly setting Mark's order in the middle of the table.

  "How am I obsessed? Ready charted, why wouldn't they be interested?"

  "It charted at number 90," Joe says.

  "And looks set to drop back out next week," Will adds.

  "Whose side are you on?"

  "Deff's, but that doesn't change the numbers, does it Simon?"

  "What more do they want? Not everyone charts."

  "No, but eighty nine acts did better than us this week," Zoe says.

  "They'll want a tried and tested formula," Will says. "If Muck and Brass performs decidedly better than Ready, or if Ready suddenly starts selling by the bucketload, who knows? Maybe we'll get more interest."

  "Should we go out and buy copies of Ready?" Simon asks. The others share amused smiles. "I'm not joking. If what's standing between us and a record deal is shifting units of Ready, then why don't we buy as many as we can afford?"

  "It's not in the spirit of the thing, is it?" Will says.

  "Maybe not, but if it clinches the deal, what's it matter?"

  "It's disingenuous," Zoe says. "A label won't give a deal to a band that's disingenuous. Besides, you're getting way ahead of yourself."

  "How am I? Are you telling me you don't want a record deal?"

  "Of course I'm not, but not everyone wants to sign with a major."

  "You're just saying that," Simon says.

  "Oh, am I?"

  "Yeah, to save face if we don't get any majors interested. We can just pretend to be all arty and say we always preferred hanging out down Solitaire's poxy little offices in Lambeth."

  "You know Joel knows you don't like Solitaire, right?" Zoe asks. "You don't do a very good job of hiding it."

  "So what? Maybe he'll try harder to impress me."

  "Or perhaps he'll decide to cut us loose after we've released Muck," Joe says.

  Simon wrinkles his nose. "Seriously, you as well? What's so bad about Maiden?"

  "I don't want Simeon or his chums telling me to grow my hair out and start wearing slap again," Zoe says. "I've already had a job where I had to do that."

  Simon looks at Joe. "Lemme guess, you're not on board with Maiden cause Zo's not?"

  "That, and I have reservations about the level of control we'd be foregoing in exchange for a deal. Solitaire have been very receptive to our ideas."

  "They agreed to shoot a music video for Muck, remember?" Zoe says.

  "Don't oversell it, they said they'd get us a bloke with a video camera and see about getting it on telly, maybe."

  "Nothing's ever good enough for you, is it Mr Sharp?"

  Simon takes a sullen sip of his milkshake.

  "Have you been badgering Mark as well?" Zoe asks. "What did he say?"

  "What did I say when?" Mark asks, making Simon and Will jump. "Sorry, shouldn't sneak up on you. Promise I'll start wearing a bell."

  "You're even later than last time," Simon says.

  "In my defence-" He snorts but Mark continues. "-I actually got here five minutes ago but there was a queue at the counter for ordering."

  Mark sets a flat paper wrapped parcel down as he stares at the untouched fish finger sandwich on the table. "Ah, you already got me one."

  "You said to!"

  "Yeah but you never do normally. Very sweet of you, Si. Come on, scoot over so we can share your seat."

  "It's not big enough."

  "Then I'll sit on your lap."

  "Fat chance."

  "Charming, Sharp." Mark glances at Will. "You always attend band meetings now? What instrument d'you play again?"

  "Can you stop pissing around so we can get started?" Simon asks.

  "Alright, alright, keep your knickers on. What've I missed?"

  "Shall I give my update then I can go and free up this chair?" Will suggests.

  Mark nods around a mouthful of cold fish finger sandwich.

  "Solitaire are definitely interested in an album after releasing Muck. The advance is-"

  "Only visible through a microscope?" Mark suggests.

  "Modest, but they've been supportive so far. Zoe was just mentioning the budget they found for the music video."

  "I'll write them a thank you card," Simon says to a laugh from Mark.

  Zoe flicks a chip at him. "Stop acting spoiled."

  "What? We're gonna make these guys rich! They're not doing us some big favour by signing us."

  "Why aren't you this articulate in meetings with execs?" Mark asks.

  "Better that he isn't, coming across like a cocky little sod wouldn't help anything," Zoe says. "So what's the plan Will?"

  "We stay the course. We've booked in to record Muck next week. With any luck, it'll do better than Ready and then we can start having proper conversations with labels."

  "With who?" Simon presses.

  "With whoever's interested," Will says, ushering Mark into his vacated seat. "Better still if we can play them off against one another."

  "Anything else before you go off and two time us with one of your other acts?" Mark asks.

  "One thing. The recording studio is booked for nine o'clock, Friday morning. I'll take your kneecaps as payment if you're not bang on time, Mark. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Not in front of everyone Will, let's save it for the bedroom."

  "If you're planning to tinker with Muck like you did with Ready, do it in plenty of time. I want to hear it beforehand, I don't want you all jamming on the clock again. Alright?"

  "Roger that. See you later, mate."

  "When and where will I see you?"

  "My boudoir, midnight tonight," Mark purrs. Will looks unimpressed. "Recording studio, nine o'clock on Friday, I was listening."

  "Good. Be seeing you all."

  Once Will is out of earshot, Zoe fixes Mark with a look.

  "You're not actually planning on reworking Muck again, are you?"

  "Ever the perfectionist. Nothing's ever really finished, is it?"

  "Will's right, we can't keep messing about, rewriting songs in the studio."

  "We won't be."
Mark's other fish finger sandwich arrives and he takes a hearty bite. "There's some collective knicker twisting going on today, isn't there?"

  Simon follows Joe's gaze to Mark's parcel. "What is that, anyway?"

  "You're finally asking an interesting question." Mark gives it a careful pat. "Just call me Santa. This here's my bulging sack."

  "It's your own fault if I throw up on you," Zoe warns.

  "Duly noted. Shall we have a gander? We're running the risk of our competitors stealing our ideas, looking at it out in the open like this."

  "What even is it?" Simon presses.

  Mark unwraps the package and holds up the thick cardboard inside to show the band a collage pasted on the front. Reluctantly, Simon gives it a once over. Chopped up photographs of his own face and snippets from magazines are pasted onto a flock wallpaper background, like the wallpaper Mark had used to make Absolute Bastards posters.

  "Well?" Mark prompts. "Not bad for a first go, is it?"

  "Is it? I don't know what I'm looking at." Simon frowns at his meticulously snipped out hair stuck in one corner of the collage. "I thought the album cover was gonna be my head shot, since I'm the band."

  "Are you now?" Zoe asks mockingly. "That's good to know."

  "You know what I mean, I'm the face."

  "Your face is on here," Mark says. "It's just spread out. I'd like to remind you we're getting this for free, it doesn't get better than free."

  "I like it," Joe offers quietly. "It's memorable. Striking."

  "I like it too, especially the price tag," Zoe adds.

  Mark looks expectantly at Simon. "Three against one, Sharp. Fancy changing your mind to save face?"

  "Whatever, I'm already outvoted."

  "Sore loser, aren't you?" Mark smirks as he packs the art away.

  "A major'd never agree to a cover like that. Bet they all have their own art departments."

  "Or perhaps Solitaire are more open to creative input," Joe says.

  "Let's not debate that again," Zoe says. "If the artwork's agreed, can we talk about Muck?"

  "We can if we must," Mark says.

  "If you poke that song any harder, it'll burst."

  "Can't resist a bit of tinkering," Mark says, twisting Simon's old sovereign ring back and forth on his finger.

  Joe studies him. "What are you contemplating?"

  "Muck's not exactly a belter, is it?"

  "Is that surprising to learn?" Zoe asks.

  "If we want a second single that'll outperform Ready, Muck's not it."

  "It's a bit late for this brainwave."

  "Seeing as I'm having it before we release single number two, I'd say my epiphany's in the nick of time," Mark says.

  "Solitaire aren't going to agree to a last minute change of single."

  "I'm not planning on asking, I'm planning on doing. Seek forgiveness, not permission."

  "What song are you considering instead?" Joe asks. "None spring to mind."

  "It pains me to say it," Mark begins and Simon grins pre-emptively, "but I reckon we should work up Simon's old jingle."

  "It's not a jingle just because I wrote it."

  Mark ignores him. "It's faster. You need a single that goes at a clip."

  "It's nowhere near finished. You're better off tweaking Muck," Zoe says.

  "Not up to finishing it by Friday, Sharp?" Mark asks.

  Simon helps himself to his last doughnut. "I'm up to it."

  "Yeah? Not fancied it for the last year but now you reckon you could fix it up, do ya?"

  "I just said, I could do it. I've helped fix all those other songs, haven't I?"

  "Then how about we make it interesting?" Mark says. "Why don't we both finish it?"

  "What are you on about? How's that different to what I just said?"

  "No, I mean why don't we both try finishing it by ourselves, then we can have a vote to decide who's done a better job. Or you could quit while you're behind and we'll just assume I'd beat you with my hands tied behind my back."

  "What's the point in making it a stupid contest?" Simon asks.

  "The point is maybe we'll wind up with a single that'll actually do well. It's not rocket science. Little friendly competition might light a much needed fire under our arses."

  Simon considers, only for Mark to give him a goading look.

  "Well?" Mark presses. "Winner's song gets to be the single, loser gets the honour of the B-side. Sound fair to you?"

  "Why're you rushing me?"

  "Because we've only got until Friday... and I said I'd be back with my creative consultant by four."

  Simon pulls a face. "You only just got here and you're already going back?"

  "I said creative consultant, not mad axe murderer, you don't need to worry about me. Come on, shit or get off the pot."

  "Throw in the video as well."

  "What d'you mean throw in the video? Throw it in how?"

  "If my song wins, which it will," Simon says to a snort from Mark. "I want a say in what the video looks like."

  "Subject to you signing your idea off with my creative consultant, fine."

  "Can your-" Mark's eyes narrow as Simon chooses his words. "Creative consultant do normal stuff? All the video needs to be is me in front of a camera, giving it some."

  "That's academic, seeing as how you've got no chance of winning."

  "Please wrap up the pissing contest," Zoe says.

  Mark gives the Oes a smarmy smile. "I trust you're on board with my brainwave?"

  "It's idiotic," Zoe says. "But worse comes to the worst, we fall back on Muck."

  "Joseph? Thoughts? Feelings? Confessions of love?"

  "I suggest that you keep your final songs secret from one another but share them with myself and Zoe. We can't waste time learning songs in the studio."

  "What about them learning one another's?" Zoe asks.

  "That's Si's problem, since he's gonna lose," Mark grins.

  "Piss off. Mark'll just have to pick it up quick."

  "We can get there an hour early and bash it out before the clock starts running."

  "Get there for eight?" Simon groans. "Are you mental?"

  "Just stay out all night then you don't need to get up. Do we have a deal, Mr Big Shot?"

  They shake on it, Simon using his slightly sugary doughnut hand.

  Mark's smile grows. "Then may the best man win."

  "I will," Simon sneers. "Now go run off to your creative consultant."

  Chapter 3

  Mark

  "Flip me over," Mark pants.

  "I don't want to flip you over, I want to see you."

  "You need your eyes testing. Flip me."

  "Mike-"

  "Harder. C'mon."

  Chris grips his thighs tighter, spreading his legs and changing the angle. Mark immediately stops protesting and bites his arm as he moans. Even with his eyes closed, he feels Chris's smile like sunshine on his skin.

  "See? Don't need to flip you to do that, do I?" Chris chokes out.

  Mark moans harder as the pace ramps up. He focuses on the fullness, heat and smell and feels overwhelmed. When he squints open his eyes, he's relieved to see Chris has closed his. He looks at Chris's chest – average, unmuscular and damp with sweat – and at his hands, bigger than Mark's but not overly so. He considers pulling Chris closer but knows he'll upset the pace Chris has set. He settles for tugging himself off in time with Chris's thrusts until his toes curl and he comes over his hand.

  Shortly after, Chris eases out and lies down beside him. Mark tries not to grimace when Chris reaches to push his sweaty fringe out of his eyes.

  "Told you," Chris says breathlessly. "Works fine like that."

  "It's better wimme face down."

  "Don't you like the view?"

  It's a cocky question but he's heard Simon ask cockier. "Don't ask daft questions, Christian."

  "Then what's your problem with it?"

  "I prefer when you fuck me so hard I leave a dent in the mattress. You can't
do that missionary or you'd snap my spine, I'm not that bendy."

  "We could start going to the gym, get you all limber," Chris says.

  "What kind of gym? A proper gym or some place in Soho with wipe clean surfaces?"

  "Which are you hoping for?"

  "One involves exercise, t'other pervy old blokes getting up to fuck knows what. I'll pass on both, ta."

  "How did Deff like the art?" Chris spots his brief grimace. "I haven't forgotten about that just cause we've fucked."

  "You need to remember that they're a bunch of philistines. And cunts."

  "So they don't like it?"

  "They're an ex-lawyer, pawnbroker and mechanic. I'm the one with all the taste."

  "What didn't they like about it?"

  Mark frowns. "You seem very relaxed about them not liking it."

  "They're entitled to an opinion. It's not like I'm getting paid."

  "The Oes were fans, actually."

  "It was just Simon who didn't like it?" Chris asks with a smile.

  "Just our mechanic, yeah."

  "What didn't he like?"

  "You didn't make him pretty enough," Mark says. "Better slap some lipstick on him and take a nice picture next time."

  "Are you going to go with a different album cover then?"

  "If we did, would you stop?"

  "Stop what?" Chris prompts.

  Mark lets his gaze pan down to their crotches.

  "You can say fucking me," Chris says. "And you can return the favour sometimes, you know?"

  "But you're very good at what you do."

  "Art?" Chris guesses drily.

  "The other thing."

  "Rolling cigarettes?"

  "The other, other thing."

  "Michael."

  "Fine." Mark swallows hard. "You're very good at fucking me."

  Chris's smile turns seedier. "That right?"

  "You've seen how I walk the next day, you know that's right."

  He pulls Chris against him and Chris squeezes his arse.

  "You told me not to let you procrastinate," Chris says, breath playing on his face.

  "I don't remember saying that."

  "You said it right before you started blowing me."

  "Must have gotten distracted, can't think why."

  "If you work on your music, I'll work on my art," Chris says. "Do you have more feedback for me?"

  "Add more Simon."

  "What else?"

  "Just that," Mark says. Chris looks at him expectantly. "Just more of Simon being Simon, to balance out trying to make him seem all arty and complex."