Plat, page 11
Until then, I had an opportunity to sing with them tonight, and it was a different vibe for me. I was used to being the star, the center of attention, but with Nobody’s Fool, that was Lexi. The guys in the band came next, and I would be nothing but a blip on the radar as a well-known, talented, but somewhat inconsequential back-up singer. The weird thing was, I liked being in this position. I had nothing to worry about but my voice, which was never an issue for me. I took care of my body, with a focus on the health of my vocal cords, so unless I wasn’t feeling well, I could always sing.
What it boiled down to was the least stressful performance of my entire life, and by the time I actually got on stage, I was ready to have some fun. The crowd was into the band, cheering and crowding the front of the stage. I’d wondered if the crowd at a sex club would be more interested in sexcapades than Nobody’s Fool, but I’d been wrong. This crowd loved us.
Them.
I kept having to remind myself of that because I’d started to consider myself part of the band. It was a blurred line for me because I was recording and performing with them, and now I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Luckily, it didn’t matter tonight, and when Lexi introduced me, the crowd got so loud I felt the same adrenaline rush I’d felt once upon a time, back when becoming a star had been my one and only goal. Back when it meant something to me to share my music with the world.
I stole a quick glance at Tyler, and my heart melted a little while other parts of me lit on fire. I knew the man beyond the musician, but the musician was pretty fucking hot. Leather pants that fit low on his hips, bare chest beneath a leather vest, and that damn V in his abdomen. How was I supposed to remember the words when I was staring at Tyler’s freakin’ V?
Then he winked at me and I remembered he was mine for now, which meant I could stare at him any time I wanted, so I turned to the crowd.
“What’s up, Club Inferno?” I demanded, motioning with my hand for them to yell louder.
My heart rate kicked up as the crowd’s energy flowed into me. How long had it been since I’d enjoyed myself on stage like this? I couldn’t remember and didn’t care right now anyway. Though I’d fought them at first, the band talked me into doing my biggest hit, a song called “School Girl Wish.” We’d rehearsed a slightly heavier version that added guitar riffs from Stu and Ford and a thumping bass line from Tyler. Bash was kicking the bass drum in a rat-tat-tat rhythm that was indicative of the song’s intro, and the crowd went wild. I hadn’t been expecting a reception like this at a private club for rich people, but now I almost wished I’d worn my trademark pink thigh-highs and ultra-mini-skirt. I was in the black jeans and low-cut black bustier Tyler had chosen, so while I wasn’t completely dressed down, it wasn’t my norm, either.
Hey, boy, I see you’re new here
You wanna get to know me?
My heart’s so black, like a lightning steel trap
And I think I smell your fear
You think you know me?
You’ve never seen the real me
The me who doesn’t study
I’ll see you at the party
Hey, big boy, wanna know my wish?
The crowd sang the chorus with me, and the second time through, I didn’t even have to sing. I let the audience carry the final chorus, and while it wasn’t a stadium or even an arena, the two or three hundred voices in the club renewed my love of performing. As I held out the microphone and they finished singing my biggest hit, I remembered why I’d wanted to do this in the first place. I loved bringing people pleasure with my songs, and these people here were having a blast. They were dancing and singing, hands in the air, smiles on their faces. This was why I did it, and somehow over the last seven years, I’d forgotten that.
Tyler grinned at me as the song came to an end and Lexi came running back out. The next song was “Bedroom Lies,” and I’d fallen in love with this one. The melody was lighter than most of their stuff, but the gritty lyrics and bluesy guitar riffs were unmistakably rock. I’d come to love the dichotomy of this song, and as Lexi sang the opening bars, I moved beside her, waiting for my cue.
Dozens of faces stared up at me, and though I didn’t often focus on them during a show, it was easier in a place like this because it was comparatively small. I hadn’t played a venue this small in many years, so I was enjoying the intimacy with the audience, being able to look into their eyes and watch them watching me. The joy, the obvious love of music, lit a fire inside of me. I wanted to sing and dance and write again, even though I knew the feeling would probably fade the minute I stepped off the stage. But right this minute, a million jolts of electricity raced through my veins as I harmonized my voice with Lexi’s.
Come on, baby, hit me with your lies
I know it’s time to go, but you’ll only criticize
There’s nothing left for us to do
Our clothes are on the floor
Don’t look at me when you lie
I’m heading out the door.
Stu bumped up behind me, his back against mine, and we fell into position so that our sides were facing the crowd, him letting loose on the guitar while I continued to sing. My head fell back against his shoulder as I belted out the last part of the chorus, and then I moved away as he went into a short solo.
Damn, that had been fun. I was used to interacting with dancers on stage, but not musicians, and what we’d just done hadn’t been planned, which made it that much more interesting. I’d never imagined having such a good time with a band, and part of me secretly wished I could be part of them. Not formally, because they already had a singer, and with them starting a new project, they were probably going to be touring for the next few years, and I didn’t want that. But singing on one of their songs and occasionally making live appearances with them sounded like a dream come true. Too bad no such arrangement realistically existed.
“Can I come sing with you guys when you’ve made it huge and are touring the world?” I asked when the show came to an end and we all collapsed in the makeshift backstage area prepared for us since the club wasn’t normally set up for live performances.
“You can always sing with us,” Lexi said, nodding. “The crowd loved it, and even though it was small, it gave us a chance to gauge their reactions on ‘Bedroom Lies,’ and I’d say it’s going to get attention.”
“Definitely a fun crowd tonight,” Stu said, taking a pull from the beer in his hand. A waitress had dropped off five of them, along with a glass of wine for me since I didn’t like beer.
“And the crowd ate it up when you two did your back-to-back thing,” Lexi said. “Maybe you and I should incorporate that into the act, Stu, since the crowd seemed into it.”
“Aye, it was a fun move.” He nodded.
“Well, next time you have a gig and you want a back-up singer, I’m your girl,” I told them, grinning.
“Maybe Whiplash will like the record and send us all out on tour together.” Lexi looked hopeful.
I grimaced. “That means I’d have to put out a new album, too, which I’ve been avoiding.”
“We can all record at the same time,” Tyler said, “release at the same time, and go on tour together.”
“Yeah, but I’d need to be the headliner,” I deadpanned, giving him a bland look.
“Wait, what?” Bash asked, frowning.
“You can’t mean that,” Stu protested, frowning.
“Do your fans show up wearing those pink thigh-highs?” Ford asked, scratching his chin. “If so, I don’t care. You can headline, and I’ll be out in the crowd hand-picking my thigh-high-wearing conquest of the night.”
“You’re a dog,” Lexi told him.
“What’s your point?” he asked, cocking his head.
“I was kidding,” I said, laughing. “I don’t want or need to headline. I don’t think they’d put us on tour together, though. The bulk of my fan base is girls aged twelve to twenty-five. I don’t think they’d be into Nobody’s Fool.”
“We’re definitely focused on a different demographic,” Tyler agreed, “but that doesn’t mean there can’t be crossover.”
“Yes, but not enough for Whiplash to finance a tour.”
“Let’s get the deal signed first,” Ford said, “and then we can worry about touring.”
“How long do you think it’ll take them to get back to us?” Stu asked, even though it was mostly rhetorical since there was no way to know.
“I think they may fast-track it if they love it,” Lexi mused. “If they don’t like it as much, then we might get the run-around for a while.”
“Bloody hell, let’s not think about that.” Stu downed the rest of his beer and motioned to the waitress to bring five more by holding up his hand, fingers splayed.
“Hey, guys.” Lexi’s husband, Zaan, stepped over the ropes barricading us in our private area, and Lexi jumped up to greet him. They kissed for a moment, his hands skimming her back, before she tugged him by the hand.
“Honey, you haven’t met Ariel yet.”
“Hey. Nice to meet you.” Zaan shook my hand, and we chatted for a few minutes. A few of his buddies from the team he played for, the Las Vegas Sidewinders, were standing around with us, and everyone crowded into our little area, talking and laughing. They all obviously knew each other, and there was a lot of lighthearted banter. Though no one excluded me, it was hard because I didn’t know them, didn’t know the stories, the players, or their history.
After a few minutes, I moved off to the side, watching but not participating, because I was torn. More than likely, a few days from now I’d be back in L.A. and far away from Tyler, Nobody’s Fool, and all these friendships I’d made. That familiar feeling of loneliness washed over me. I was the outsider here, even now that I was working with them and dating one of them. None of it was real, though. My relationship with Tyler was only for a week, and while my relationship with the band might be ongoing, it would only be in small increments of time.
“Standing on the outside looking in, eh?” Stu came to stand next to me.
I glanced at him curiously. “A little.”
“I know how you feel.” He stared over at the laughing group for a moment before looking down at me. “I’ve been an outsider since I got out of prison. Most people don’t want to work with me, and the ones that do are all a bit careful. Not that these lads treat me any different, but I feel it whenever we’re with strangers. And sometimes it feels like too much bloody work to try. Especially when you know you’ll be shot down.”
“In my case, it’s not that I’ll be shot down, but that I don’t think I can stay, so I’m trying not to get attached.”
“You could stay if you wanted to. I think Tyler’s head over heels for you, lass.”
I smiled at the sweet Scottish term. “I’m pretty crazy about him, too, but it’s complicated.”
“Aye, most things worth having are. Fight for yourself, and for your future. That’s what I’ve had to do. Every day since I got out of prison has been like climbing a mountain. I take two steps up and some bloke smacks me back a step and a half. But I’m never giving up. This is the only life I have, you know?”
“But you still stand back sometimes, like an outsider looking in.”
“I do. Self-preservation, I guess. Pretending I don’t care about anyone enough to hurt me if things go wrong again.”
“Story of my life.”
“It’ll be all right, lass.” He put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got all of us now.”
“Who do you have?” I asked quietly.
“All of you, I’d say.”
I met his gaze for a moment before I smiled.
Maybe I wasn’t an outsider after all.
19
Tyler
The next couple of days were quiet since we only met up with the band for a few hours the day after the gig and cut out early the day after that. We’d recorded “Bedroom Lies” and “Taking Shots,” and were trying to finish up “Wicked X.” Ariel had sung background vocals on “Taking Shots,” which was great, and I’d casually dropped it into conversation that I thought it would be fun if she did background vocals for us whenever possible. Everyone had agreed, and though Ariel smiled, she hadn’t said anything.
Our week together was coming to an end, and there was no doubt she’d been thinking about it. I hadn’t said much about our unofficial deadline because I didn’t want to upset her, but today marked a week since she’d gotten here, and if she was going to leave me tomorrow, I needed to know.
I rolled onto my side and stared at her beautiful face. She was on her side, facing me, one hand tucked under her pillow and the other out in front of her on the sheet. We always fell asleep tangled up in each other but tended to wake up on opposite sides of the bed. She moved a lot in her sleep and alternated between burrowing under the covers and throwing them off. It was kind of cute, and I realized how much I was going to miss her when she left.
I reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear, and though she stirred, she didn’t wake up. She was so beautiful, even without a stitch of makeup, and it didn’t seem fair I was going to lose her before I even had a chance to truly enjoy her. We had a fantastic connection, unlike any other, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to convince her to stay with me. I was well aware that it was complicated for her, and her father would do everything in his power to bring her back to L.A., but we could fight him. I’d been with her twenty-four-seven for a week and had seen zero signs of mania or depression or anything out of the ordinary. I was confident her bipolar was manageable and wanted to be with her regardless.
In a very short amount of time, Ariel had become one of us, even if she wasn’t technically part of the band. She and Stu seemed to have formed their own friendship, separate from me, and she and Lexi giggled a lot, which wasn’t something I expected from either of them. Her ice princess persona had disappeared, and though she was a little nervous sometimes, she seemed to be coming out of her shell more and more with each passing minute. She was a talented singer and songwriter, and despite her pop background, she was already making us better as a band, which was an unexpected bonus of our relationship.
She’d been forced on us because Whiplash wanted us to change our music style, and they’d used a big contract to entice us, but now that she was here, she brought a lot to the table. Everyone liked her, her voice was fabulous, and we were going to use some of the arrangements she’d done on a couple of our songs. In one short week, she’d completely immersed herself in my life and that of the band, so I couldn’t imagine not having her around anymore.
“Why are you watching me sleep?” she murmured.
“Because you’re beautiful. Also because I’m trying to work up the nerve to ask you something.”
She blinked, going from sleepy to thoughtful in just a few seconds. “Why do you need to work up the nerve to ask me anything?”
Both of our phones buzzed at the same time, and I rolled over to grab mine because that couldn’t be a coincidence. I saw that Bash had texted me multiple times, and I opened the program to see what was up.
And there were pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
Nothing incriminating, but if we’d thought the paparazzi hadn’t been on to us, we’d been wrong. There were pictures of Ariel and I holding hands as we left the club, me opening the door of my SUV for her, and me kissing her as she got in. Nothing that it would be a problem for anyone else, but for Ariel, well, I didn’t know what it might mean.
I turned over and saw that she’d grabbed her phone, too, and was scowling.
“Why can’t I ever get away from them?” she whispered. “How did they find us at Club Inferno?”
“Someone on the inside must have leaked the info,” I sighed. “I’m sorry, babe, but just breathe and remember we didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I was seen leaving a sex club. That’s exactly the kind of thing my father can use to say I’m out of control.”
“We played a gig. The club owners can vouch for you. Now that it’s over, there’s no reason they can’t explain we did a private show for VIP members. Come on, it’ll be okay.”
“I guess.” She glanced down at her phone and turned it off before putting it back on the nightstand and getting out of bed.
I was annoyed but opted not to say anything else. The pictures weren’t a big deal except that her father would now know we were dating because I had no doubt he’d either already seen them or would see them soon. Hopefully, it wouldn’t change anything for us, but I didn’t have a handle on how things were going to go with us. She’d gotten quiet after putting her phone away, and though I wanted to reassure her, it felt like she needed space, so I’d leave it alone for now. Maybe later, when it wasn’t so raw, we could talk some more.
We were headed to the studio because the main sound stage was empty, and it was a chance for the band to rehearse our live show. Whether we went on tour next month or next year, we had to start planning the show itself, and that tended to take time. Bash and I had the most experience with it, but Casey had always run that part, so this had elements of newness to us as well. Hopefully, Whiplash would take over the technical details, but the stage theatrics had to come from us.
Ariel had said she was happy to come along and give us her insight since she came up with most of her own shows, helped choreograph the dance routines, and had a say in costumes, lighting, and all the other details. Her show was different than ours would be, of course, but she was a professional with the right experience, so we were open to all ideas. Plus, she’d seen us play a basic show the night we’d met, and had performed with us as well, so she knew what direction we wanted to go when we started playing live.
