The concern about keeping my resolve was moot. Justin glared at me from across the room, obviously still pissed about our last encounter. Which only fueled my anger. How could he be pissed with me when he’s the one who left with someone else? I may have started it, but he sure as hell was the one to finish it.
“Where’s Sarah?” My question was directed to Ian, all but ignoring Justin.
“She’ll be here soon. Her plane has landed, so she’s on route.” Ian looked anxious, pulling his phone out of his pocket, checking to see if he had any updates.
“You should have flown with her.” Justin snapped. “Don’t know why you’d hang out back here by yourself.”
“Good thing I’m not all by myself then isn’t it.” My comeback tanked, but I’d prefer the cold shoulder rather than the sharp barbs.
Justin made a show of looking around the space. “Ah, I get it now. You’re looking to join the groupies. I’ll let you down easy, they’re out of your league.”
“Out of my league?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “What league are we talking about here, hotshot? Because the way I see it, the only league they’re playing in is the league of the…”
“Give it up, you two.” Ian interrupted, his expression serious. “Not today.”
“Don’t look at me. It’s all her.” Justin shot a glare in my direction.
Ian’s phone chimed in his hand and he read the message. “Sarah’s here. I’m just going to go meet her. Can you two manage to get along for five minutes?” He didn’t wait for a response before leaving us alone.
“I’m not here for you, Justin. I’m here for Sarah. I’m calling a truce.” See, I could be a good friend.
“Trust me, I know you’re not here for me.” Justin shot back, running a hand through his hair. “You made that point quite clear. Not sure what the fuck happened, but I’m sure his tiny dick was worth it.”
“Whose tiny dick? Chris’?” I barked out a laugh. “I didn’t think you noticed. Didn’t seem like you cared about anything other than the Silicone Valley of boobs you left with.”
“Nothing wrong with silicone when you’re sliding your dick between them.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
It took a split second to hide the hurt, but I managed. “Can you just shut the fuck up? Let’s try silence for a change.” I backed myself up as far as I could and leaned against the wall. By some small miracle, Justin kept quiet, while I stared at the concrete floor beneath my black converse.
Chapter 8
Shallows
Justin
“Oh, thank god you’re here!” Maggie blurted the second Ian and Sarah walked through the door. “Finally, a human to spend time with. I might need you to come with me to buy flea treatment after being around this mutt.”
Ouch. What the fuck? Two can play that game. “I don’t think I’m the mutt you should be worried about. Not after all the strays you bring home.” My plan, after discovering Maggie was tagging along with Sarah, had been to stick a goddamn band-aid on our whole frenemies-with-benefits thing, but Maggie wasn’t cooperating.
“You are such an asshole.” Maggie’s middle finger raised in my direction. She was putting on her tough girl act, but she couldn’t hide the glimmer of hurt in her eyes. “Sarah, save me. Please.”
“Why can’t you two just get along for five minutes?” Ian questioned, looking exasperated. “I wanted to spend some time with my girl before the show.” I expected as much. Life on the road was hard and being away from home when in a relationship meant that Tim and Ian didn’t even have the opportunity to get laid, which made for frustrated and high-strung bandmates. Just more proof that being single was the better way to go.
“No way!” Maggie threw her hands in the air. “You can’t leave me with him. Sarah, please don’t leave me.” She tugged on Sarah’s arm, adding a childish dramatic element to her ridiculous pleas.
“Fine. But after the concert, you two are on your own.” Maggie caved, playing right into my hand. After the concert, Maggie would have no choice but to hear me out and like always, I would switch on the charm and ensure that by the end of the night I had my fill of my favorite redhead.
***
“My room or yours?” I wasted no time closing in on Maggie in the wings. She was standing near the back wall, doing her best to hide in the shadows while waiting for Sarah who was wrapped in Ian’s arms closer to the front of the stage.
“Fuck off.” She snapped, her arms crossed and legs wide. Okay, so she was pissed, but what the hell had I done to make her so defensive.
“Fine, your room it is. I’ll see you in an hour.” I pushed my wet hair out of my face.
“Not happening.” Maggie’s lips settled in a firm line and determination written across her face.
“Jesus, Mags. I’m not going to sit here and argue.” My clothing had become uncomfortable once the sweat cooled.
“There’s no argument. I’m going back to my room. Alone.”
“Like fuck you are. I’ll see you in an hour.” Without giving her time to respond, I spun on my feet and left. Something had happened with Maggie. This wasn’t us. The slinging of insults was nothing new, maybe a bit nastier than usual, but not completely out of character. But her being frigid when we’re alone… well, that I wasn’t expecting.
When I showed up at her door later, she better let me in. The last time I had sex was with her. It had been way too long, and the lack of release was setting me on edge. Going weeks without getting off wasn’t something I wanted to get used to. At some point, I would have to find a way to make it work with other women, even if it meant finding women who looked like Maggie until I worked her out of my system. These droughts were painful and were forcing an appreciation for why Tim and Ian were so desperate to go back home. Even more ammunition for why I needed to get laid and move on.
The hour spent appeasing fans, signing CDs and tits, posing for selfies and answering the same damn questions a dozen times, was the longest of my life. Thinking of Maggie and praying the girl didn’t shut me out, consumed me, taking my focus away from my career. My escalating worry that she would turn me down, didn’t stop me from making a beeline to her room while the rest of the guys had drinks in the hotel bar.
I should have asked for a key card to her room but doing that would have drawn unwanted attention and questions. It was bad enough my security guard was witnessing me pound on Maggie’s door with pathetic impatience.
“Mags, let me in. Before someone sees.” The door swung open and Maggie stepped back, allowing me to enter.
“I told you not to come.” Maggie folded her arms across her chest. She was ready for bed, wearing a pair of shorts and a baggy T-shirt. Her face was void of make-up and her unruly hair was piled on top of her head.
“And I told you I would be here.”
“Why?”
“Besides the obvious, why not?” Since when had things changed between us? For months, it had been our thing and then suddenly, without warning, Maggie was pulling away. From day one, I knew we would end, but she wasn’t going to be the one calling it quits. When this was over, it would be when I was ready, and I sure as hell wasn’t ready.
“Okay.” Maggie relented, pulling the t-shirt over her head. “Let’s get this show on the road then. I’m tired.”
“Ah, but Mags, you already know there’s no rest for the wicked.”
***
“Ohmygod, I completely forgot.” Sarah exclaimed, rushing from the couch she and Ian had been sitting on, to dig through her purse resting on the counter by the door of their suite. Tim, Maggie, and I had crashed their room, planning to spend a few hours shooting the shit before the girls left. Tim eyed Ian curiously about Sarah, to which Ian simply shrugged his shoulders, knowing no more than the rest of the room.
Sarah came back with her phone in her hand, her fingers gliding across the screen. “When I was on the plane, the girl sitting next to me showed me a video of her brother playing one of your songs. I told her I would show you guys.”
/> “How did she know who you were?” Ian demanded, out of concern for her safety. It was a common occurrence when it came to Ally and Sarah. The guys were always worried about them. In a perfect world, their concern would be unwarranted, but after years of having fame follow you, some of the fans were a bit on the crazy side and unpredictability and crazy tend to go hand in hand.
“She didn’t actually. It just came up. She’s just a kid, Ian. And I’m the one who asked her to send me the video. Trust me, you guys want to see this.”
“You do realize we’re tagged in about a million videos of people playing our music every single day, right?” I questioned, annoyed that we were spending any time watching what was sure to be just another young guy, strumming a guitar and singing off-key. It’s great to have so many people love our music, but it’s impossible to watch them all, so I just gave up. I mean how do you pick and choose?
“Yes, I realize that.” She pinned me with her eyes, her resolve unbreaking. “But you haven’t heard this guy.” Ian feigned interest and leaned over Sarah to watch the screen as she pressed play. The video started and the fact that he wasn’t terrible piqued my interest. It wasn’t long before all three of us were on the edge of our seats, listening to the video. Whoever the guy was, he was talented. Like real talent. Not just a replica of what we already were doing. He had his own twist and to be honest, his version was better than what we had put out there. Not that Tim would ever admit it.
“Wow.” Ian grabbed the phone out of Sarah’s hand and started the video again. “Who is this guy?”
“His name is Ryan… McDonald, I think. His sister’s name is Madison.” Sarah was bursting with excitement, knowing she had discovered someone incredible. I had to admit that she had.
“I just don’t know what we do with this. The guy is good, but lots of guys are good. I mean aside from maybe introducing him to some bands that are looking for a guitarist, I’m not sure what we do.” Tim stated, shaking his head a bit, shaken by the fact that some random guy just outdid his music.
“Well, I guess that would be something. Seems like a sin not to do anything. His dad is forcing him into law school.” Sarah gushed, the strangers’ future suddenly a huge concern for her.
“How the hell do you know that much about his life?” Maggie laughed. “It wasn’t that long of a flight.”
“She was sixteen and wouldn’t shut up.” Sarah countered.
“I think we should meet the guy.” I suggested, playing through some options in my mind. What would be so bad about adding a fourth to the band, if this Ryan guy wasn’t a one-trick pony? It might have always been just the three of us, but the guys were settling down with their family-centric lives, another single male around would help. Not to mention we could use fresh blood. Someone to add new life and keep the momentum moving forward at a time when our train was at risk of derailing. I needed this train to keep on moving. I needed to be on the stage, playing music. Without music, who the hell was I supposed to be?
***
My, how the tables had turned. Tim used to be the one to take the bull by the horns and Ian was the one to make sure we stayed on track. With the two of them off in Never Everland, I was the one left holding the reigns. Ryan was an opportunity we couldn’t afford to pass up and the guys left it to me to set it up. Our tour was passing through New York, giving me a reason to make the phone call.
When it came to women, breaking the ice was a sport I dominated, but other men, that was a different story. Picking up the phone to cold call someone I only knew via a video on a smartphone screen was intimidating. For the future of Hazed though, I would walk through fire. A ten-minute phone call should be a breeze.
Taking deep breaths, listening to each ring of the call, I thought through how I would approach inviting ourselves into his life. He had to be a fan, given that he was playing our music. We should be a no brainer for him. Why the hell was I nervous? I swept my sweaty palms on my jeans while holding the phone between my shoulder and my ear.
“Hello?” Surprised by the break in the rings, I lost my grip on the phone, managing to catch it before it hit the floor. Great start, genius.
“Is this Ryan McDonald?”
“Hey, man. Who’s this?”
“Justin Thompson,” To make sure he understood who I was, I tacked on “… from Hazed.”
“Ha, ha, very funny.” He chuckled. “No seriously, who is this?”
“No, seriously, it’s Justin Thompson. Your sister was on a flight with Ian’s girl, Sarah. She showed her a video of you playing one of our songs.”
“Maddie? Really? I thought she was lying when she told me that story.” He paused for a minute. “Wait, a minute. Is this one of her friends? Come on, I’m not falling for this. I’m not that gullible.”
“How can I prove that I am who I say I am?” I questioned, more to myself than him. “The guys and I wanted to meet you. We’re passing through New York next week and wanted to set up a time.”
“No shit.”
“Shit. Does Thursday morning work for you? We have a concert that night but will be at the stadium running sound checks around eleven. If you wanted to come for then, we could meet up after we’re done.”
“Is this honestly for real?”
“I swear to God. Sarah played the video for all three of us and we were all impressed. What you did with Tim’s song, man, none of us ever even thought of spinning it that way.”
“Well, then I’ll be there.” If he was skeptical, it had been subdued enough for him to take the risk of being made a fool.
“Great. I’ll text you the details in a bit. Does this number work?”
“Yep. This number’s great.”
Thursday morning arrived fast. Time never drags when we’re on tour. Between the highs from the shows and the exhaustion of traveling and living out of a suitcase, the hours fly by. But just because the moment came quickly, didn’t mean I wasn’t anxious about meeting Ryan. Tim and Ian might be under the impression this was just an opportunity to meet someone whose talent we appreciated, but I knew better. We were meeting someone who had the ability to be part of us. He had the potential to propel Hazed forward. There was more riding on this meeting than they knew.
Ryan was ten minutes early. I expected as much. While on the outside we may look miles apart, his short, styled dark hair, pale pink button-down, and naked skin compared to my long, light locks, ripped jeans, and tatted arms, I had a feeling we were more alike than different. He was carrying an acoustic guitar case that seemed out of place with his clean-cut image.
“You must be Ryan.” I was the first to greet him, Ian and Tim hanging back. “I’m Justin.”
“Oh, wow. I can’t believe it’s you. I thought for sure this was one of Maddie’s pranks.”
“Not a prank. Promise.” I chuckled. Sibling bullshit was something I missed out on.
“I brought my guitar. Not sure if I need it, but…” He looked unsure.
“You’ll definitely need it.” Ryan needed to relax. He belonged in our world. His doubts could be left at the door.
“Hey Ryan. I’m Ian and this is Tim.” Ian and Tim made their way toward us. “We can head toward the stage if you want. Our instruments are ready to go.”
Way to be intimidating. We weren’t winning any awards from the welcoming committee. “It’s easier to jam up there because everything is set up.” I explained, shrugging my shoulders. If he wasn’t comfortable with it then Hazed wasn’t for him anyway.
“Works for me.” He followed us onto the stage, unzipped his case and pulled out his guitar. “I would have brought an electric, but I wasn’t sure of the set-up.”
“No worries, man. You can use one of mine.” Ian grabbed his least favorite of the six lining the side of the stage and passed it to Ryan. Ryan plugged in and tested the strings.
“What do you want to play?” We should be running the show, but Ryan had it under control.
“How about ‘Made’?” I suggested, knowing it wa
s an easier song to get started with. Something to break the ice. Not that I was the most knowledgeable when it came to the guitar, but I could play well enough to get by.
“Do you know that one?” Tim questioned. His tone was skeptical. Of the three of us, he was the least impressed about Ryan.
“Yep. I’m good with ‘Made’.” Ryan played the first few chords of the song as proof. I made my way behind the kit and counted us in.
We played for over two hours, until our tour manager kicked us off the stage. Ryan kept up with every song and killed two guitar solos. If Tim wasn’t impressed when we started, he was by the end. The three of us gushed over Ryan like a bunch of teenyboppers over a boyband.
“So, what are your plans?” Tim cut to the chase, gauging Ryan’s level of commitment to music. He was one to talk. If he only knew how weak his commitment had become.
“I’m in law school, so I guess my plan is to become a lawyer.”
“You don’t want to play music?” I was shocked.
“Well, I want to but it’s hard to fit in music and school right now. My parents want me in law school, so that’s where I am.”
“How old are you?” I couldn’t help but ask. Why was a grown-ass adult letting his parents tell him how he should spend his life?
“I’m twenty-two.”
“Well, you’re talented. If you wanted a career in music, you could probably have one.” Tim pointed out, warning me off lecturing him.
“You think?”
“Definitely.” Ian seconded.
“Wow.” Ryan shook his head. Other than exchanging numbers, there wasn’t much else that could be done. We weren’t in a position to hook Ryan up with his future in music and by the sounds of it, he was living for his parents anyway. I could only hope our paths would cross again.
***
It had been two months since Hazed had been together in public. After the arrival of baby Adeline, we’d gone quiet. Which is why I was pumped that not only were we together again, but we were at a hockey game, one of my favorite things to do. It was always a great way to spend time together without worrying about our career, music, or our fans.
Hooked Page 9
