Melody: Beautiful Series, book three

by Anderson, Lilliana

  Marcus grins. “You’re a good person, Nomes.”

  “Does that mean yes?”

  He nods. “Yeah. I think taking a more active role in our band’s success and inner workings will be good for all of us.”

  I grin, releasing a happy sigh. I’m getting through to him.

  “Hey, did you ever tell her about the bassist before Lachlan?” Jack asks, stubbing his cigarette out on the footpath.

  “Dude, why would you even bring that up?” Marcus frowns at Jack like he’s got two heads.

  “Relevance,” Jack says, placing his hands on the gold bars to push the trolley and our luggage into the hotel.

  “To what?” I ask. Although I’d be interested in this story if it had nothing to do with Theo taking on the brunt of the work.

  “The reason Theo runs the band.” The automatic doors open and a burst of cool air conditioning washes over us as we enter the lobby.

  “Jesus. I don’t even wanna talk about this,” Marcus says, pulling out his phone. “I’m gonna check us in and get our keys. Hopefully this story will be over when I get back.” He walks off, and I instantly turn to Jack with keen eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “It was this chick called Andrea,” he says, stopping not far from the elevator bay while we wait on Marcus.

  “Andrea? Did she go to our school?”

  “Nah, I don’t think so. She was a bit of a random. I’m not actually sure how he met her.”

  “He?”

  “Marcus. He’s the one who recruited her.”

  “Why did she leave?”

  “She didn’t leave. She was kicked out because she was shit. She fucked up left, right, and centre. Nearly destroyed the whole band. I’m pretty sure she was only in the band in the first place because she was fucking Marcus.”

  “Shut the fuck up man,” Marcus says from behind us. He’s holding an envelope that I’m assuming has the key cards for our rooms inside. We didn’t even hear him coming up. “You only overlapped with her for a couple of months and came in at the tail end of it. Quit talking about shit you know nothing about.” Marcus glares at Jack, who just rolls his eyes, ignoring the outburst and continuing on regardless.

  “She totally fucked up this gig she was in charge of because she was too off her face to function properly. Then on the night of the gig, she could barely play. Theo cracked it, kicked her out, then brought Lachlan in. End of story. But it made Theo take over and create a bunch of ground rules. The biggest being no drugs or we’re out, and we’re not allowed to involve our girlfriends in band business.”

  “That’s fair enough,” I say, pressing the button on the wall to call the elevator. “Theo’s always been anti-drugs. Besides, I don’t think I’d want to be in a band mixed up in any of that shit. And I do appreciate that there’re no hangers on at rehearsals. I think it’s made you guys really professional.”

  “Don’t tell Theo any of that,” Marcus says as the lift arrives and we load ourselves and the trolley on. “He’ll get a big head.”

  “I think he could probably do with a little acknowledgement, Marcus. How else is he going to feel comfortable letting us help him?”

  He sighs as he scans the key card and hits the button for our floor. “You’re right. I need to give the guy more credit.”

  I lean in and loop my arm though his, giving him a slight squeeze. “I just want to see you two getting along again.”

  He laughs. “You sound like my mother.”

  “So, I hear,” I say, smiling to myself as I release his arm then watch the numbers on the readout change. I’m already feeling great about the direction our band is heading in. This tour can only bring us all closer, like family.

  “I’ll bet Radio Silence doesn’t have to lug their own bags around,” Jack complains when the lift doors open and the trolley gets stuck in the groove. They push and grunt and have to heft the whole thing across the threshold before it’s free.

  “Well, we’re not Radio Silence,” Marcus points out, handing Jack the key to his and Lachlan’s room.

  “I bet they don’t have to share rooms either,” he mutters.

  “Lucky me,” I tease, waving my card in the air. Since I’m the only girl, I have my own room.

  “I’ll trade,” Jack says. “Lachlan farts and talks in his sleep. It’s all kinds of wrong.”

  “I think I’ll pass.” I laugh, moving along the hall to open my door, feeling surprised that Marcus doesn’t even make a cheeky comment about sharing with me instead of Theo. Maybe he’s finally taking the band rules seriously?

  We’re all situated either across or next to each other. So, we set the luggage cart in the middle of the hall and open up all the doors, depositing the correct bags in the correct rooms.

  Each room has one or two double beds, and a low-line cupboard spanning the longest wall. On that are the TV, a water jug and supplies for making tea or coffee. Built into it is a minibar, and at the very end is a narrow wardrobe. There’s also a bathroom, and a small sitting area with a couch and coffee table.

  Once I’m alone, I haul my suitcase onto the bed, pulling out some of my things, hanging them in the cupboard provided.

  A few minutes later, a light tapping sound comes from my door, just before it opens. Marcus walks in, holding my key card in front of him. “You might want this,” he says, waving it at me before placing it in my hand.

  “Thank you. I didn’t realise I dropped it.” His hair is damp and he’s changed his clothes from the ones he was wearing on the flight here. I inhale, smelling the scent of soap as it drifts off his warm skin. I can’t help but let out a little hum.

  “I found it on the floor in my room. It must’ve fallen out of your pocket while we were distributing bags.”

  “Lucky you found it. I would’ve been locked out.”

  “No worries. What do you think of the room?” He takes a quick look around then flops down on my bed, next to my open suitcase.

  “Yeah, it’s nice enough,” I say, as I continue to unpack my things. When I turn around, Marcus is holding my purple silk and black lace bra off the tip of his finger.

  “Got a thing for purple, huh?” I take back the part where I thought he was taking the band rules seriously.

  “That’s not for you.” I reach out and snatch it from his hand, giving him my best unimpressed look.

  “Hey, it’s nice. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  I grab the rest of my undergarments and stuff them into a drawer so they’re out of his reach and sight.

  “There is no lucky guy. You should know that. I don’t do what you do. I have this thing called standards. And self-respect.”

  “And what is it I do?”

  “Fuck every girl on two legs who bats her eyes at you.” I fold my arms over my chest and wait for some sort of smart arse retort.

  “Maybe I’m trying to keep busy until I can have the girl I really want. Have you ever thought that?” He gets off the bed and moves over to where I’m standing, stopping directly in front of me, only inches away from my face. He’s not an easy man to resist.

  “You can’t have the girl you want, Marcus.” Lucky I have a lot of practice around him. “I believe in the band rules. I’m not available.”

  He reaches up and brushes his knuckles along my jaw, sending delightful shivers beneath my skin. “One day the stars will align, Naomi. I will have you.”

  His closeness makes me heady, makes my fingertips itch to reach out and touch him. I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. Even still, I lift my hands slightly, feeling momentarily brave or foolish – I’m not sure which one. But instead of reaching for him, I reach back and grip the edge of the bench top, turning my head to break eye contact. “You need to stop doing this. It isn’t helping.”

  “I’m just reminding you that I’m still here. Still waiting. Never giving up.” He steps back slightly and lifts his other hand, a pair of black lace panties hanging from his middle finger. “You missed a pair.”

&nb
sp; “Jesus christ.” I snatch them back and ball them in my hand. “What is wrong with you?”

  “You know exactly what’s wrong with me.” His eyes sparkle amusedly, loving that he can make me blush like an innocent little schoolgirl. He does it on purpose, I know it.

  “Yeah. You’re not getting what you want.”

  “You’re right.” He leans in even closer and inhales. “It’s right here. But it isn’t mine to take.” I feel his warm breath caressing my neck as he releases it, his mouth right beside my ear. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Marcus. I… I need to finish unpacking.”

  “You might want to take a shower too,” he murmurs, withdrawing from my space. “You kind of stink.”

  My eyes—which had fluttered closed—suddenly fly open, my mouth along with it as I let out a shocked gasp. “Well don’t sniff me,” I yelp, shoving him away as he chuckles, seemingly delighted with my reaction. “Get out!” I throw the only thing I have in my hand at him in a huff as he moves towards the door.

  He catches the underwear. Shit. I didn’t think that through. “I’m keeping these by the way. You’re the first girl to throw her panties at me.”

  “No. Give them back.”

  “Never.” He laughs, quickly opening the door and exiting. By the time I throw it open, he’s already across the hall.

  “I wouldn’t let that door shut if I were you,” he warns. “You’re key is still on the table inside.” I freeze with my foot jammed against the door.

  “Shit,” I hiss, balling my hands at my side, feeling defeated as Marcus laughs at me again and spins my panties around his finger, looking mightily impressed with himself.

  “You’re an arsehole.”

  With a wink, he shuts the door, knowing he’s won.

  “Jerk!” I slam my door, but when I turn around, I’m smiling.

  Every day I spend around him reminds me why I’ve always liked him so much, why I’ve always loved being in his presence. He’s fun, he’s spontaneous, and never afraid to say or do something. Sure, he can be a total jerk, but he’s also one of the most genuine people I know. You just need to learn how to read him right. He behaves the way he does because without hordes of attention; he feels worthless. Although, I could do with him dialling back the sexual tension a touch, I don’t think I brought enough panties to deal with too many of his charged encounters.

  Twenty-Three

  Theo

  “Ok ladies, we need to do Controlled by Longing from the top. The sound is off,” I say, wanting to give it one last shot to get our board right. Everyone’s exhausted from the long trip and struggling to give it their all, but we only have a couple of days until the show, and I don’t want to leave anything to chance. Our timing and instruments need to be perfect. Our sense of space on the stage, and our sound levels need to be perfect too.

  “Again?” Lachlan complains. “I just wanna go back and take a shower, man.”

  “And you can,” I say. “When we get this right.”

  He groans, but he doesn’t complain again. I get that he’s tired, hell, I’m tired too. But if we fuck this opportunity up because we chose to shower and nap instead of practicing, we may as well pack up and go home now.

  “Is it the instruments or the sound setup causing the problem?” Jack asks.

  “The setup. It sounds tinny.”

  Jack nods then sprints up to the sound guys and has a quiet conversation. I know I’m being really particular about this stuff, but I’m not here to be anything less than perfect. We have a standard to uphold.

  “Are Erica and Amy going to be here?” Naomi asks while we wait.

  Our stage set up follows a V-shape. I’m in back with Naomi ahead on my right. On my left is Jack and his keyboards, and ahead of him is Lachlan on bass. Marcus, of course, is front and centre. That way he can move around and interact with everyone as necessary.

  “They’ll be here. I gave them our comp tickets. They’re driving up tomorrow.”

  “I’ll bet they’re glad they followed you guys.”

  “You’re one of us now too. Don’t forget that.” She smiles and gives me a small nod. Then Jack comes running back onto the stage, wheezing a little because he’s been smoking like a chimney instead of breathing fresh air.

  “Should be good now,” he says.

  “Controlled by Longing from the top.” Marcus turns around and everyone nods.

  I count us in, closing my eyes and listening to each note played, and each word sung so I can confer with the sound guy afterward.

  I can’t control this feeling

  I’m about to raze it to the ground

  I need you to stop me,

  I need your gentle calm,

  I don’t want your words,

  Just the cool touch of your palm

  Lie with me

  Wrap me in your arms

  Despite our exhausted state, we’re playing well. I guess we’re all at a stage where we can do this in our sleep. We know that if we fuck around, we could lose our chance at becoming more than a garage band who records all of their own stuff.

  Honestly, I’d love to get picked up by a label, or to have someone else manage it. The time and energy I put into this band is huge. It’s my entire focus. While I love doing it, and love that we’re getting some success out of it, it would be nice to have someone else pick up the slack, so I can actually enjoy some fun of the band instead of feeling like I’m everybody’s Nazi dad. Things need to change…

  When the last notes are played, our attention is pulled to the floor where a loud clapping echoes through the room.

  The lights are trained on the stage, the floor cast in shadow. It’s difficult to see who’s out there, but as the figure approaches we know exactly who it is.

  “Sounding great guys,” Dan Stolle, the front man for Radio Silence says, his English accent sounding out of place in this Aussie setting as he climbs onto the stage.

  We all thank him, beaming like a bunch of groupies. This is so cool seeing someone like him in the flesh. He represents the few who’ve truly made it in this industry, and to have him walk up and tell us we’re great is something else. He even shakes each of our hands, complimenting us individually on our playing so we know he payed attention. But then he pays special attention to Naomi….

  “You, sweetheart, are the reason we said yes to having Matiari support us on this tour. I have to say, I love what you do with that fiddle of yours. It’s seriously making me think of adding strings to our next album.”

  “Really?” She giggles. Giggles. She fucking giggles. She keeps a hold of his hand, smiles wider than I’ve ever seen her and she giggles. Great. What chance do I have now? Not that I’m supposed to be getting any chances.

  “Really. You impress me, doll.” He lifts her hand to his lips, and the energy of the room changes. We quit being star struck and encroach like a pack of wolves protecting their female. Don’t you dare touch her. Feelings aside, Naomi is one of ours. And guys like Dan Stolle don’t get to swoop in and charm her away from us.

  “Thank you,” Naomi sighs.

  “We’ll need to talk some more during the tour. I’ll show you a few tracks and maybe you can share some ideas about what you’d add to my sound.”

  “Seriously?” She gasps. And now I want to punch him because I think he just offered her fucking job. Right in front of us. Stay in the band, Theo. It doesn’t exist for me without you, Theo. Until Dan Stolle comes along and wants you to work with Radio Silence… Shit.

  “Yes.” He smiles, still holding her hand. This entire encounter wipes any smile I had off my face as I watch her turn to a puddle at his feet. Crap. Crap. Fuck. Shit.

  I need a smoke.

  Stolle steps back, finally letting go of her. “OK. Just wanted to drop by and meet you all. We’re about to rehearse ourselves, but I hope to be crossing paths again soon.” He directs the last part at Naomi, who fucking giggles again. Fuck the sound. I need some air.

  “That’s great, mate.
See you around.” Marcus dismisses him with a few measured words, and I’m thinking I could be persuaded to like my brother again. I like it when he shows some balls, because fuck Dan Stolle for walking in and trying his rock star charm on our girl.

  “Have a good practice, mate,” Jack adds, saluting him, also seeming unimpressed.

  Never meet your heroes.

  Stolle seems oblivious or just doesn’t care about our reaction as he heads backstage, leaving us all feeling like the wind is taken out of our sails. For a while I just stand there, staring after him like I’m trying to bore a hole in the back of his head. Who the fuck does he think he is? He was hitting on Naomi right in front of us. He either did it to fuck her, or steal her. He may as well have cocked his leg and taken a piss around the stage to mark his territory. Cunt. I know fame does things to people, but you’d think he wouldn’t be so fucking obvious.

  So we’re here because he wants Naomi. Not because he likes the band because of Naomi. That’s just fucking brilliant. Because I needed more stress. Just when I’d started to feel good about my life and the direction it was taking fucking Dan Stolle strolls in and stomps all over it, stealing everything that makes my world good. FUCK.

  I wipe a hand over my face and shove my drumsticks in my back pocket. “Let’s get this shit away. We’re done for today.” Keeping my head down, I unplug one of the leads and wrap it around my arm. I’m sure Radio Silence wouldn’t want any of our stuff stinking up their stage. Unless it was Naomi’s of course. Shit.

  “You might wanna wash your hand,” Marcus suggests as he leans in near Naomi. He says it quietly, but in a big place like this, sound carries.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you don’t know where he’s been.”

  I cough to hide my burst of amusement.

  Naomi

  Because you don’t know where he’s been. I watch Marcus wind cables around his arm like he’s wrestling snakes. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”