Purple Method

by Victoria Milne

Raising his hands in the air to a packed venue, Max vowed to make the most of this. If he couldn’t have Rick, he’d damn well make sure he had his career.

  Max turned to look at Tony as his brother took his place at the drums, and began to play his bass. The intro to “Bass-tards,” one of his songs. Finally, he got to open a gig with one of his songs.

  A COUPLE of songs later, he was feeling a bit weird—kind of spaced-out—and he kept thinking he saw things that weren’t really there. Was that Rick at the back of the crowd? Max blinked, and then he was gone. He put down his guitar and stood by the microphone, searching the crowd for Rick, desperate for another glimpse of him. Tony and Kyle were playing the intro of “Black-Spot Heart” over and over, waiting for him to join in.

  The crowd began to heckle, but he still couldn’t see Rick. Had he imagined it? As he moved his hand to grab the microphone, the flashing lights reflected off it. It was mesmerizing. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  Kyle shook him. “Come on, Max. You need to sing.”

  He took the microphone off the stand and handed it to Max.

  Max looked down at the microphone and back up to the crowd. They weren’t their fans. They weren’t here to see them. A biker-looking guy in the front row waved his fist at him.

  Slowly, Max approached him and crouched next to him, peering down and speaking calmly to him. “Listen, asshole, you heckle me once more and I’ll come down there and kick your ass.”

  Springing to his feet, he turned his back to the crowd and raised his arms in the air. Tony and Kyle were watching him in horror, glancing at each other in a silent conversation. Max brought the microphone to his lips and turned to face the front of the stage. Biker-guy waved his fist again and threw a plastic cup of beer at him, but Max dodged it, and it sailed past him, sloshing across the stage.

  He was aware that the crowd was rapidly turning against him, but he didn’t care. Screw them all. He was getting hot. Unbearably hot. Max pulled his T-shirt over his head and threw it at biker-guy, and then he undid his boots and kicked them off. Then he placed his hand on his belt. “Let’s see a little skin.” He winked at the girl next to biker-guy. “I will if you will.” That ought to piss her boyfriend off.

  “Max, don’t do this. You need to stop,” Kyle shouted at him, but Max shoved him out of his way. He placed the microphone back in the stand and undid his belt, waiting until the cheers drowned out the angry heckling—he was back at the Torrens Club with hundreds of people screaming his name. The room was spinning a little. Steadying himself using the microphone stand, he whisked off his pants. The crowd seemed to be enjoying it. He grinned and slid off his boxers, standing onstage completely naked. Kyle and Tony were watching him and looked stunned. Max giggled and gazed out in a trance at the mass of metalheads. He was numb to emotion for the first time in months, content to stand there and watch how this played out.

  Death Charm’s fans pushed forward, a jumble of naked skin, black leather, and PVC. Another glass sailed past him, but this time he didn’t flinch. The security guards who had been heading toward him now turned to face the crowd, trying to control the chaos.

  Max’s gaze was drawn to the back of the hall, which was emptying as the crowd bunched forward as they crushed toward the stage. One person was left standing there, up on the balcony. The one person he’d been searching for, and the last person he wanted to see. He was blurry, but when Max blinked, he didn’t move.

  Anger welled up in the pit of his stomach, and Max fought Tony and Kyle’s attempts to pull him off the stage. It was all Rick’s fault this was such a disaster.

  He grabbed his bass guitar, lifted it high above his head, and smashed it down on an amplifier over and over again. Shards of his precious guitar flew in all directions and the strings sprung back, striking him in the face, but he didn’t care, he could barely feel it, just as he didn’t feel the barrage of glasses striking him.

  Max collapsed, naked, down into the debris, the blood from his forehead mingling with his tears and dregs of other people’s beer. The crowd began to swarm the stage, and Max felt himself being hauled to his feet and through a maze of dark, eerie tunnels, the shadows giving him the creeps.

  The shadows drifted to life, floating toward him, closer and closer, terrorizing him with their deadly shapes. He swerved to avoid a shadowed sword thrust toward him, and terror threatened to take over his body. Max tried to zigzag down the path to stay out of reach of the shadows trying to attack and engulf him, trying to swallow him whole.

  Max tried to scream, but no sound came out.

  Suddenly the shadow-demons disappeared, and his vision was assaulted with thousands of bright, piercing lights that flashed across his vision in haphazard streaks. Were they outside? He was so hot. Someone was trying to put clothes on him, but he fought them off. He was burning up.

  Tony was shouting, “We need to get him to the hospi….”

  Max watched Tony’s lips moving, and his voice pierced him like thousands of clusters of hypodermic needles.

  He had to get away.

  He sprinted—heading for the road. Roads were the quickest way to get anywhere. He’d be back at his hotel in no time. The room would be safe. Quiet. And he could take a cold bath to cool down.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Rick

  Earlier that afternoon

  “YOU DIDN’T even respect me enough to discuss it with me, or even to tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader.” Max turned and ran.

  “Max, wait!”

  Rick started to run after him, but found himself slowing and watching Max disappear as the enormity of their fight hit him.

  He’d accused Max of being a coward because he’d hidden who he was, but then it struck him: Max had been brave enough to come out to his friends. For him. And yet he had been too scared to even tell Max the truth about his interview. If anyone was a coward, it was him, not Max. He deserved everything Max had said. And the truth stung. He wished he could turn back time until before Max spotted him, wished he hadn’t lashed out at Max, that he hadn’t pushed him away.

  How could he have been so stupid as to think that Max couldn’t have handled them talking about Rick’s offer? Rick had been worried about hurting Max, about losing him. But now his actions had pushed Max away completely. The hurt on Max’s face when Neil had told him the job was his would haunt him forever.

  “Rick.” At the sound of Neil’s voice, Rick turned to face him. He was trembling, his thoughts still spinning. “Everything okay out here? We heard shouting.” Neil walked up to him and frowned. “Are you okay?” Rick opened his mouth but was at a total loss of what to say. “Come on back inside. I’ll make us some tea.”

  Rick followed Neil into the gym in a daze.

  “What happened to your friend?” Neil said once they were sitting in his office with mugs of hot tea. Rick didn’t even like tea, but he sipped at it anyway. It was strangely soothing.

  “He left.”

  “Shouldn’t you go after him?” Rick looked up at him. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that if Dietmar is pissed at me, he’s always right, and I have been an arsehole. You should always go after them.”

  “But… Max isn’t—”

  “Rick, I heard everything. Your boyfriend’s pissed at you because you didn’t tell him about our arrangement.”

  “I didn’t think he’d understand.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Rule one of any relationship: if you’re serious about them, you have to tell them everything. Even the shit stuff.” Neil paused. “Especially the shit stuff. You can guarantee they’ll always find out if you’re hiding something. I guess the question is: is he important enough that you want to fight for him?”

  Rick’s shoulders slumped. “I never expected to feel this strongly for him.” He rested his head in his hands, and his voice cracked as he said, “I think I might be falling in love with him. I’ve ruined everything. There’s no way he’ll want to speak to me again.”


  Neil raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were a fighter, Rick. Fight for him.”

  A COUPLE of hours later, Rick left Neil and headed back to the hotel. He had negotiated with Neil about the terms of his employment and had come away with a deal that was far better than he could have dreamed of. He would be responsible for a small stable of fighters to start with and would help with their training camps as they prepared for their fights, and would then travel with them and be ringside as their cutman.

  This would be the best of both worlds. The fighters would fight a maximum of four times a year, and their training camps would be eight weeks long. He wouldn’t have to be there the entire time. It would mean he would be able to spend practically half the year in Elfinbrook with Max, and the other half he would be in London, but would be able to visit with Max every couple of weeks… if Max would hear him out and still wanted to be with him, that was. His chest was heavy, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he played out Max’s possible reactions in his head. He hoped that Max felt as strongly about him as he suspected he might—hoped that he would give him another chance to make this right.

  It was getting close to five, and Max still hadn’t returned to their room. Rick considered going to speak to Tony to find out if he had seen Max, but he knew that once Tony heard about what had happened, he would have some serious bridges to rebuild. He tried calling Max’s cell, but there was no answer. He was still pissed at him. Rick didn’t blame him.

  He was going to have to face the consequences sooner or later. Quickly changing into something more suitable for the gig, Rick then went and knocked on Tony’s door. There was no answer. Maybe they were all already at the venue.

  “Rick,” Sian called out. He looked behind him and saw her checking her door was locked. “Is Max ready to go? Kyle and Tony were wondering where he is. They just got to the Scarab Lounge, but he’s not there.”

  “He’s not there? Well, where is he, then?”

  Sian frowned. “What do you mean, where is he? We thought he was with you.”

  Rick let out a frustrated growl. “We had an argument. I haven’t seen him all afternoon. I thought he would’ve been with you?”

  Sian had her cell out and tried calling Max, but he didn’t answer to her, either.

  “Where could he be?” Rick gripped his hair and shook his head.

  “How bad was your argument? What did you do? He was really happy when I saw him earlier.”

  “It was awful. I’ve been a total jerk.”

  Sian narrowed her eyes but didn’t press him. “In that case, my guess would be that he’s in one of the bars. Where were you when you argued?”

  “Belsize Park. About a half hour away.”

  “Rick!” Sian sighed heavily. “He could be anywhere. I just hope he had the sense to come back around here. Tell you what. We’ll check the bars here in Camden and I’ll keep trying his cell. We’ll split up. It’ll be quicker.”

  Rick lost count of how many bars he went into, but Max was nowhere to be seen. Finally, Sian called him.

  “Did you find him?” Rick demanded.

  “Yes, I found him,” Sian said, and she started crying.

  “Is he okay?” A cold chill rippled through his body. “Tell me he’s okay.”

  “He’s onstage.”

  Rick relaxed as he recognized the Purple Method song playing in the background, but not much. “Why are you crying? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Rick, he’s a mess. I think you need to get down here.”

  Rick’s heart was racing as he ran out of the bar and sprinted down Camden High Street toward the Scarab Lounge. It didn’t take him long to get there. Thankfully the sidewalks were clearer than they had been earlier in the day. He was breathing hard as he had his ticket checked and went through the usual security checks.

  When he reached the balcony, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Max was onstage, naked, goading the crowd. He was slick with sweat, and if Rick didn’t know better, he would’ve sworn he’d taken drugs. He looked spaced-out. Not quite focusing normally and staring at odd things like his hand and the lights.

  Had he driven Max to do this? Guilt gripped him even tighter, and Rick clutched the balcony railing.

  The crowd surged forward, and Rick watched in horror as they swarmed the stage. There was absolutely nothing he could do from this far back. Kyle finally managed to grab Max and dragged him off the stage and out the back, but not before Max had smashed up his bass guitar. Tony raced after them, shielding them from the glasses being thrown at them. Jesus.

  Rick turned and ran back out through the entrance, and onto the sidewalk. He knew the door to backstage was a few doors up, and sure enough, farther down the street, a door flew open, and Sian, Tony, Kyle, and Max appeared.

  Before Rick could get to them, Max ran out into the road, naked. Instead of crossing over, he ran down the middle of one of the lanes of traffic.

  Rick willed his legs to move faster. He had to catch Max before this ended in disaster, before anything could happen to him. It was all his fault. If he had told Max the truth, none of this would be happening. Rick’s heart nearly stopped as a car swerved past Max. He didn’t seem to notice the traffic. It was a miracle nothing hit him. Oh God, he had to get to him soon. Rick dodged the cars as he sprinted toward him.

  “Max!”

  Kyle, Sian, and Tony were also running after Max, and Rick soon overtook them.

  But they were all too late.

  Rick’s heart stopped, and he watched helplessly as Max approached the bend in the road. A car raced around the corner, not seeing him in time and striking him hard, catapulting him into the air. It didn’t stop, swerving around the four of them chasing after Max and then driving away. Max tumbled to the ground in a motionless heap in the road.

  “Max! No!”

  Reaching him first, and without a thought to his own safety, Rick dropped to his knees next to him and curled his body around Max to keep him safe. The approaching car skidded to a stop, narrowly missing them.

  “Please be okay, please be okay,” Rick’s panicked voice repeated as he checked him over. Max was writhing on the ground, but there was little blood. Thank goodness the car had slowed a little for the corner before hitting him. That probably saved his life.

  Tony dropped to his knees beside Rick, panting hard. “Is he alive?” Tony screamed.

  “He’s not going to die.” Rick prayed he was speaking the truth. He couldn’t lose Max. He couldn’t…. “Call an ambulance.”

  “Don’t let them kill me,” Max sobbed and flailed.

  “No one’s going to hurt you. I’ve got you.” Rick held Max tight, cradling him in his arms and supporting his neck as Max let out a blood-curdling wail. “I won’t let anyone harm you,” he said. “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”

  AS THEY waited for news on Max, Rick paced the hospital corridor until Sian tugged at his arm and encouraged him to sit with her. He was used to being in hospitals because of his chiropractor training, so he didn’t usually mind them, but being in there because someone he cared about was hurt was a whole other thing. Surely they should’ve heard something by now.

  “It’s all my fault,” he said and rested his head in his hands. “He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”

  “This is nobody’s fault,” Sian said.

  Kyle shifted in his seat. “I honestly thought he would be okay. He must have only just taken the drugs. I didn’t realize he’d taken so much. If I’d known—”

  “How could you have guessed?” Sian said. “Kyle, it’s not your fault either. Sure, he seemed a bit spaced-out, but no more so than you get sometimes. I thought he’d be okay too until that third song. But by then it was too late to pull him off the stage.”

  They sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Tony had been completely silent. He was sitting in one of the chairs in another row with his knees pulled up to his chest and was staring at the wall. Rick got up and moved over to sit nex
t to him. “How are you holding up?”

  Tony ignored him, not even glancing his way.

  “He’s going to be okay. There was no blood. That’s got to be a good sign. His muscles would most likely have been relaxed from the drugs, so it’s unlikely that he will have broken anything.”

  “My brother is in here because of you,” Tony said so quietly that Rick almost missed it. Tony turned his head and stared at Rick, his face expressionless. “If you’d stayed away from him like I’d told you to, none of this would’ve happened. He took those drugs because of you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rick said, his throat tightening. “I’m so sorry.”

  “If you weren’t in his life, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now waiting to hear whether my only real family is going to make it through this.” Tony clutched at his knees, his face pale, eyes bloodshot.

  “Max is going to be okay. He has to be,” Sian said, tearing up. “And you need to stop blaming Rick. Nobody could’ve predicted that Max would react this way. Yes, Rick, you’ve been a jerk, but you’re also the best thing that ever happened to Max. None of us was there to support Max through this until it was too late. Tony, if you’re going to say it’s Rick’s fault, then that’s on all of us.”

  Kyle let out a sarcastic laugh. “What a total clusterfuck.”

  “You can say that again.” Sian turned from where she was looking out the window at the glowing moon high in the sky. “But right now, looking after Max is all that’s important. None of this crap matters. What’s done is done. It’s how we move forward that’s important.”

  “Mr. Diaz?” A doctor approached, and they all sprang to their feet.

  “Yeah,” Tony said. Rick stood by Tony’s side. “How is he?”

  “He’s been very lucky, and we expect him to make a full recovery. We’ve sedated him and given him something to counteract the drugs, but we’ll be keeping him in for observation for the next forty-eight hours.”