Lisa
Marcus Bailey has been connected with more women than there are stars in the sky. A quick search on Google shows image after image and rarely do I see him pictured with the same woman twice.
That’s why, when I scroll further and spot the same woman several times, I pay attention. She’s a tiny blonde who looks similar to Sandra, actually. There are photos of them together and photos of them with three other people. As I continue to look, I find images of her and Marcus singing on stage together. Ah, that explains it. They were in a band together called Matiari.
I don’t know why I’m spending my lunch break looking him up on my phone. I’m telling myself it’s only because I should have looked him up earlier. But I know it’s more than that. He’s been on my mind all day. I feel stupid doing this. But I console myself with the thought that no one needs to know. I’ll do a little cyber stalking and move on. No big deal.
I enlarge a few of the photos of him when he was in the band. He seems a hell of a lot happier in the old band photos than he does in his new shots. I wonder what made him leave…
There’s a shot that shows him singing at the blonde. When I zoom in on their faces, she looks mortified. Whoa. What’s going on here? I zoom out to read the caption: ‘Radio Silence Support Act Loses Lead in Onstage Scandal’. Scandal? I click and I’m taken to YouTube, to a video with 614,355,346 views. Well, 614,355,347 now.
A video filmed from within the audience loads on my screen, showing the band on stage. At first there’s just a huge amount of excited screaming then Marcus leans into the microphone.
“I’ll bet you guys are loving Naomi, right?” he calls out. The crowd all screams in agreement as he walks over to the blonde from the photos. She’s holding a violin at her side, but she looks confused. She smiles and waves for the audience then looks over her shoulder towards the drummer. I have a terrible feeling about this. I’m not sure I want to keep watching.
Marcus stands right in front of her and speaks into her microphone. “Yeah. I love Naomi too,” he says, his voice calm but aggressive.
She’s looking around in a panic while he returns to his microphone.
“What are you doing to her?” I mutter at the phone screen, my anxiety peaking just watching this.
“Now, Naomi is a fan of Aiden Price.” The crowd screams at the mention of his name—even I know who Aiden Price is—then Marcus shakes his head. “No, he won’t be here tonight, but I get that a lot of you are probably fans as well. Actually, I am too. A while back, as a bit of a treat we did his song I Recall. But tonight, I’d like to do something a little different. I have a special song, just for Naomi. This one is called ‘Weighted’.”
I place my hand on my chest. “Oh, you didn’t?” I say to no one in particular. I know this song. Aiden Price is one of the few modern artists I actually listen to. His music is raw and emotive. It isn’t that same four-chord bullshit that dominates the charts.
‘Weighted’ is about a relationship gone wrong. One where the singer can’t stand to even look at his lover any longer. It’s about a love that’s turning into hate. I can’t imagine what this woman could have done to him to make him feel warranted by singing this. But I can’t watch anymore. He’s publicly humiliating that girl, and I want to cry for her. No one deserves this. She’s trying to act professional and play the song for the audience, but it’s so obvious when he sings ‘Cause you’re a bitch to be around’, that he’s directing it at her. How cruel.
A sick feeling rises in my throat. I tap the screen to pause the video and shut down my phone. I wish I hadn’t looked him up now.
"This came for you while you were at lunch," the receptionist, Erin, informs me, handing me a white envelope as I re-enter the building.
“Thanks.” There's nothing on the envelope except for my name, so I have no idea what's inside. I open it straight away, expecting it to be something work related. But it’s not.
I let out an exaggerated sigh. Why couldn’t he just leave me be?
Erin’s eyes grow wide as she watches me remove two tickets and VIP passes that clearly state ‘Marcus Bailey’ on them.
“You have VIP passes to Marcus Bailey?” she gasps, while I pull out the accompanying note.
Perhaps I’m the exception to the rule.
Marcus
Keeping my expression neutral, I slip the note into my pocket and replace the tickets and passes inside the envelope. "Would you like them?" I say to Erin, holding the envelope out to her.
Her hand flies out to grab it, but hesitates. “You don’t want them? Are you sure?”
“Then they’re yours.”
“You can’t be serious. That show was sold out months ago. I am such a huge fan of his.”
I thrust the envelope into her hand. “Have a great time.”
“Oh wow. I will.” She immediately spills out its contents and holds the passes against her chest. “Thank you!” she squeals, reaching for her phone. “I have to tell my friend.”
I smile and mouth ‘you’re welcome’ as her call connects, and she hysterically tells her friend about the tickets. Then I laugh, because I’d love to see Marcus’s face when he looks down and sees I didn’t take the bait. I’ll show him who’s the exception to the rule. It’ll take more than a couple of tickets to get this little black duck to swoon over the likes of Marcus Bailey.
Four
Marcus
I was born to be on stage. There’s a lot about the music industry I don’t like, but performing will never be one of them. When I’m centre stage, it feels like the whole world is screaming my name. I’m not lonely here. I’m the man they want, the man they paid hundreds to see. On stage, I feel like a god. It’s when the lights turn off and the music stops that I have a problem with my life.
But I’m hoping to take steps towards fixing that when the show ends and Lisa makes her way backstage. I haven’t looked forward to an after party for months.
I’ll see her as soon as she walks in, feeling out of place. Then we’ll lock eyes and she’ll probably blush the way she did when she realised I was the Marcus Bailey. I’ll make my way through the crowd, and she’ll feel really important when I take her by the hand and tell her I have something special planned just for her. Which I do. I’ve booked out Zephyr, the rooftop bar at the Hyatt Regency. It has views of the harbour for days and we’ll have it all to ourselves.
We’ll spend the night talking about 60s music, and why she shouldn’t give up on modern artists when some of them have a lot to offer. She’ll immediately realise I’m talking about me because she’s smart like that, but she’ll smile and lick her lips and I’ll know I have my opening. I’ll signal to the staff that they need to leave, and I’ll have my way with her then and there. Maybe I’ll get us a room and we can talk some more and fuck a whole lot. And if I’m not bored by the end of it, I might even ask her out again. This could be the start of something. Naomi didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Thank you all for coming out this evening,” I say into the mic as the crowd quiets. “This final song is called, Incredible.” Cue the crowd screaming.
I purposely chose this to sing last because the spotlight is going to sweep over the first few rows of the audience and I’ll get to see her. Lisa, sitting in the front row with a smile on her face and a tingle between her thighs.
If I’ve played my cards right, she’ll think I’m singing this song for her. We’ll make eye contact and when she comes backstage, she’ll be putty in my hands.
She’s been in the front of my mind all week, and I need tonight to go well so I can figure out if this is just some weird infatuation, or there’s actually something there. There’s also the possibility that this is all a setup and she knew who I was all along—it’s so hard to trust people these days.
As I strum out the intro, I do my normal thing and introduce the band members, thanking them all for playing for me tonight. Then I close my eyes and launch into the ballad.
Your eyes
/>
Oh, they’re always shining
You make me feel
Without even trying
You’re so beautiful
You make me want to stay
I know
When I flatter you, you never believe me
I know
That in the mirror, you don’t see what I see
If I have to
I will tell you every day
Two backing singers join in on the chorus. At this point, I’m putting as much emotion into the words as I can, timing the point where I open my eyes so she’s the first person I see.
Let it be known, Marcus Bailey knows how to woo a woman.
You’re incredible
In every way
I wouldn’t change a thing
Everything about you
Is heart stopping
I open my eyes for the last line, the most powerful line, because all the music stops for a few beats and all there is is the power of my voice.
Everything about you
Is heart stopping
Cue the swoon. I lock eyes with the centre front-row seat, and my fingers stumble slightly over the final cords of the song. She’s not there. There are two young girls I’ve never even seen before here instead. What the fuck? Thankfully, I recover quickly and I don’t think anyone notices my slip up.
“Thank you, Sydney!” I yell, hand above my head as I back away then walk off the stage. The crowd roars but I’m reeling.
Why the hell didn’t she come? Who the hell says no to a rock star?
Lisa
“Come on, Perry. Surely you’ve pissed on every tree in the neighbourhood by now. Consider your territory thoroughly marked,” I say to my golden retriever as I tug at his lead.
Every morning, we go through this same routine. I swear that if this dog pees any more, he will become so dehydrated that he’ll turn into a dusty husk and blow away on the next gust of wind.
I walk him so we both get some exercise, but this constant stopping doesn’t do much for either of our cardiovascular systems.
Giving his lead one last tug, he follows along beside me, panting happily as his tail swings gaily in the air for the last twenty metres back to my house without further incident.
Well… not really. I stop dead in my tracks when I find none other than Marcus Bailey sitting on my front porch.
“What the hell? How did you find out where I live?”
“There are surprisingly very few ‘L. Russell’s in the directory and even fewer within commuting distance to the studio,” he replies.
“Thanks for that, Sherlock, you’ve just given me the perfect reason to become unlisted.”
Perry, the traitor, wags his tail happily at Marcus and tries to run towards him. I grip the lead solidly at my side, but I’m struggling to maintain my balance against my big strong puppy.
“Wait,” I command, and he sits for about two seconds. In a move that would make Houdini proud, Perry slips his collar and bounds up my front steps, jumping on Marcus who seems only too pleased to pat him and give him all the attention he’s after. “Perry!” Whose dog does he think he is?
“G’day, big guy. Aren’t you fluffy? Yes you are,” Marcus coos, scratching him behind the ears. Perry pants and rolls on his back for a belly rub.
“He’s not allowed to jump on people. You’re rewarding him for being bad.”
“Did you get my note?” he asks, ignoring my objections while he continues to lavish Perry with attention.
“I did.”
“You didn’t want to see my show?”
“I told you. I’m not interested.”
His blue eyes level with mine, like he’s trying to read whether I’m telling the truth or not.
“I’m staying in town for a while. My home is here and I haven’t seen my family properly for the last couple of years. I’ve decided I need a break from all the attention.”
“Good for you,” I say, wondering where this is all going and why he’s at my house.
“I think we should at least be friends,” he announces, a decision he’s obviously not planning on consulting me over.
“Friends? I stood you up last night and that made you want me as a friend?” This guy’s insane. He’d probably get along great with my dad.
“Yes. I like you. I like your no bullshit attitude. I also like that you don’t seem to give a fuck about who I am. So, I’d like us to be friends.”
I hold my thumb over my shoulder and point next door. “Mr Melnic probably doesn’t know who you are either. He can talk underwater with a mouth full of marbles. I’m sure he’d welcome your friendship.”
Marcus laughs and stands up, Perry faithfully at his side. “See. That’s what I‘m talking about. This is going to work out great.” He walks down the stairs and stops just in front of me. I freeze, not knowing exactly what he’s planning to do. He leans in and my breath hitches involuntarily, causing his eyes to crease with a knowing grin. Something about his nearness is making me shake as he holds my eyes and reaches down to take the lead and Perry’s slipped collar out of my hand. I struggle to let it go. I can’t even think of anything to say as I watch him secure my dog. I’m just working on the breathing part while my cheeks burn with my body’s betrayal.
“I’ll see you soon, Lisa.” His voice is a gentle murmur as he returns the lead to my hand, ensuring his fingers brush lightly against mine at the same time. A ripple of electricity shoots up my arm and I clench my jaw, wishing it would fuck off.
“I don’t want to be your friend,” I force out, trying to regain a little composure and control.
“I genuinely hope not.” He winks then walks straight past me, climbing into his silver Porsche 911.
For what feels like the billionth time since I met him, I’m rolling my eyes at his entitled bullshit. Who does he think he is waltzing in on my life uninvited? Still, I can’t help but release a chuckle as I watch such a tall man fold himself up into a tiny sports car. It just looks comical.
“What a douche,” I mutter as the Porsche rumbles down the road. Perry barks once and I take that as him agreeing with me. Although based on his earlier reaction to Marcus, I think it was more a ‘come back’ bark than anything else. Traitor.
“Lisa. Lisa!” I hear from behind me as I enter the office on Monday morning. I turn to find Erin bounding down the hallway towards me. “I just wanted to thank you again for those tickets. Saturday night was absolutely epic. I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun. You wouldn’t believe all the celebrities we met backstage. I spoke to Kurt Marx.” She bounces on her toes. “Do you know him? He’s on that MTV reality show about his dad, Jimmy. You have to know him. Ohmigawd. It’s my favourite show, and Marcus Bailey is my absolute favourite singer. And I got autographs from them both. Thank you so, so much! It was just—”
“It was my pleasure.” I hold up my hand to interrupt her gushing. “I was never going to go, so I'm glad the tickets went to someone who enjoyed it.”
“Oh, I did. Very much. So did my friend.”
“Excellent.” Lifting my briefcase to show her I still haven’t made it to my office, I tilt my head to indicate that I'm about to leave.
“Oh. Sure. Sorry. Have a great day. I just wanted to say thanks, and let you know that if you ever need anything from me—and I mean anything—just ask.” She lifts her hand up to cover her mouth conspiratorially. “Like if you need me to mark you here when you're running late just let me know. I’m more than happy to help you out. Anything you need. Anything. Just ask.”
I can't help but laugh. "Thank you, Erin. I'll make sure I remember that."
As I walk to my office smiling, I realise I’ll never have to take a call I don’t want as long as Erin is on reception. With Marcus Bailey on the chase, she can be my gatekeeper. That’s a pretty sweet deal as far as I’m concerned.
“Good morning.”
“Holy shit,” I gasp as I enter my office and find Sandra sitting behind my desk. “What are you doing in
here?”
“Waiting for you, obviously,” she replies.
She doesn’t appear very impressed with me. “What’s up?”
“Oh. Nothing…nothing important anyway.” She lowers her eyes and scratches at something non-existent on my desktop. I place my bag on the floor and sit down in the visitor’s chair.
“Alright. I give. What’s not important but has you sighing petulantly?”
“Like I said, it’s nothing. I just typed up the recording you sent through to me this weekend and well… I thought you said he didn’t try anything.”
“Who? Marcus Bailey?”
“Yeah. You didn’t stop the recording when you finished talking to him because it recorded him asking you out to dinner.”
“Did it also record me refusing him?”
“Yes, it did. But why didn’t you tell me he asked you out?”
“Why does it matter? It’s not like I went. It’s not like you dated him… right? He’s just some guy who took advantage of his fame with you because you look a lot like that Naomi woman he was obviously in love with. You aren’t actually hung up on him are you?”
“How do you know about Naomi Prendergast?” She narrows her eyes.
I shrug and look away for a moment, suddenly uncomfortable. “Because…I Googled him. I was embarrassed after the interview and wanted to see if he’d cause any trouble because of it.” Now I’m pulling some vague reasoning out of my arse because I don’t want to admit the man intrigues me. I mean, who asks a woman out, gets knocked back and stood up then shows up at her house deciding they want to be friends? I’ll give him one thing, he’s persistent.
Sandra sighs. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just thought you would have told me is all. We could have laughed about it. It was pretty funny the way you rebuffed him. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me.” She drops her eyes, looking genuinely hurt.
Rock (Beautiful Book 4) Page 4