by Wells, Nicky
MonX played heavy rock, but it was melodious and haunting. The melodies were almost classic in their complexity. One particular piece, a slow ballad that ended in a terrific, hard-and-fast climax, was practically a fugue. I vaguely wondered whether this was deliberate or accidental, but Mr Bach would have been proud either way.
Me, I was a convert. I didn’t know if it would last, but for that night, I loved rock, and that was all that mattered. So I did my best to sing along to the songs that I recognised, and I clapped and cheered, and I could feel my vocal cords strain with the effort of making myself heard above the music. And I didn’t mind. I had never felt so alive before.
It seemed only mere minutes after the opening song that the band disappeared off stage, and I was distraught. I didn’t want the gig to end. The fans started chanting Encore! Encore!, and I joined in eagerly, punching the air with my right fist on the two syllables like everybody else.
After a couple of minutes, MonX duly reappeared and played another three songs. I recognised each of them and joined in ecstatically. One of them, I felt sure, was the number one hit single that had gained commercial airplay, and now I understood why. The magic of rock…the magic of rock…
‘How was it for you?’ Jed asked me playfully as we went to the bar to wait to be called for the after-party. The houselights were back on, and the venue was emptying rapidly, apart from assorted VIPs and hangers-on.
‘It was…it was amazing. I’m blown away,’ I gushed, laughing at my raspy voice. ‘I think I need a drink.’
‘You got it,’ Jed acknowledged. ‘What do you want? Another beer?’
‘Could I have a rum and coke?’
I thought a little caffeine shot might be a good idea. Time was going towards midnight, and it didn’t look like I would be making the last Tube home. It would be a long night.
‘Rum and coke it is.’
Jed went to get the bartender’s attention, and I took a moment to catch my breath. My heart was still pounding from the adrenaline rush, but now that the music had stopped, I could hear a steady high-pitched humming in both my ears. Strangely, its effect was that I felt mildly deaf, as though I had water in my ears. I was a little unsteady to boot, quite literally unbalanced on my feet. Hopefully, a nice stiff drink would sort that out.
‘Hey.’
A glamorous brunette sidled up to me and gave me a friendly smile. Oh yes. Jed’s fiancée.
‘Hi, Tara. I’m Emily.’
‘Emily. Cool. Where’s Jed?’ Her eyes scanned the room furtively.
‘He’s getting a drink.’
‘Oh. Right.’ She twisted a lock of hair around her index finger. ‘So, are you seeing Mike?’
I jumped with surprise. ‘Who, me? No! I only met him tonight. Whatever gives you that idea?’
She shrugged. ‘You looked pretty cosy together, earlier.’
I laughed. ‘He was only flirting.’
‘Exactly. He’s a terrific flirt, and he always follows through, too.’
‘Does he now?’
Tara nodded, but before she could say anything else, Jed appeared with our drinks. He handed me my rum and coke and dropped a kiss on top of Tara’s head. ‘Hi, love, enjoy the show?’
‘It was great,’ she replied. ‘Are we going to the after-party? Or can we go home? I’m a little tired.’
‘We can go home,’ Jed agreed after a moment’s pause. ‘Lemme find Mike and say goodbye, okay?’
He shot me an apologetic look and went off to find his brother. Tara and I were left standing together rather awkwardly. I wracked my brain trying to come up with something neutral to say, but I drew a blank.
‘This was my first MonX gig, you know,’ I finally blurted out, purely to break the silence.
‘Really? Wow. Well, the excitement wears off after a while, you’ll see.’
I cringed. She sounded really jaded and disinterested. Like she would rather be anywhere but there. And suddenly I realised why she made me uncomfortable. She was like I had been with Nate. Bored and disdainful. Goodness knew she would drive Jed away if she wasn’t careful.
I opened my mouth to offer some unsolicited advice, but Jed reappeared and saved me from that particular minefield. He smiled sweetly at me and took Tara’s arm.
‘Nice meeting you, Emily. You take care now, and enjoy yourself. Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again someday.’
I smiled back. ‘That would be nice. And thank you for everything, you know. Have a safe journey home.’
We exchanged a quick look, and he turned to go.
‘Bye, Tara,’ I shouted after them, but Tara didn’t acknowledge me again.
‘Oh dear,’ I mumbled under my breath and sipped at my rum and coke.
‘Oh dear what?’
Two arms snaked around my waist from behind, and a strand of hair spilled down my chest as Mike put his chin on my shoulder. His breath was warm against my neck. I tried to turn my head to sneak a peek at him, but his face was in the way, close to mine as it was, and we rubbed cheeks. The gesture was wildly intimate, and my knees threatened to buckle.
‘What?’ Momentarily incapable of coherent speech, that was the best utterance I could summon.
‘You said, “oh dear”. Oh dear, what?’ Mike sounded lucid and alert. He certainly didn’t seem to be afflicted by confusion or weak knees.
‘Oh. Um. Well, Tara and Jed.’
Mike let go of my waist and spun me round to face them. ‘Tara and Jed,’ he repeated. ‘Now there’s a tale.’
‘Not a happy one, from the look on your face.’
‘Not terribly, no. She doesn’t get this. Us. Jed’s besotted, of course. One day soon, she’ll ditch him.’
‘Ditch him?’ I was shocked to hear him echo my thoughts. ‘But you told me they’re engaged.’
‘I know. That was Jed’s best shot at trying to make it last. She said yes, of course, but she doesn’t mean it.’
‘And you know that how?’ I challenged him, even though I believed him.
He shrugged. ‘I know stuff. For example, I know that you’ve never been to a rock gig before, that you didn’t even really like rock until tonight, and that you’re a real fun girl just waiting for a good time.’
I gasped and pretended to be outraged. Yes, pretended. For how could I be offended when he was so blatantly correct? Still, I had to protest for form’s sake.
‘Do I look like a fun girl who’s waiting for a good time?’
Mike made a big show of looking me up and down once again, and I blushed. I noticed that several dozen pairs of eyes were watching us, some openly, some a little more discreetly, but we were very much the centre of attention. I blushed a little more. Quite irrationally, I suddenly started to worry about my mascara. It was bound to have run after all that singing and dancing and shouting and sweating. It certainly wasn’t waterproof. It wasn’t heavy-duty equipment, and it had never been put to the test like this before.
Oh God, what if I had massive panda eyes, and I was standing here, right in front of this young rock legend, with mascara running down the side of my face? I needed a mirror.
Right on cue, Mike touched a finger to the side of my face and ran it languidly along my cheek. I was mesmerised. Had he read my mind? Was he actually trying to wipe the mascara away?
‘No,’ he whispered.
My mind was still on my beauty debacle, and it took me a moment to compute his next words. ‘You don’t look like a good-time girl. You look like a princess strangely transported into these whereabouts by a minor miracle, or maybe even a major one, and I would like to keep you safe and protect you.’
‘You what?’
Who talks like this?
Mike laughed. ‘Sorry. So sorry. I was coming over all lyrical. I do that, after a show. I often write my best songs in the afterglow. But seriously, no, you don’t look like a good-time girl. But you do look like someone I’d like to get to know better. You’re absolutely beautiful.’
‘Despite the mascara?’
‘The one running down my face.’
He looked at me critically. ‘I don’t see it.’
‘You don’t?’
‘I don’t.’
‘Phew. I thought I had the biggest panda eyes ever.’
Mike shook his head. ‘Nope. No panda eyes. Although I’m happy to work on that later, if you like.’ He flashed me a quick grin, but before I could react to his innuendo, he took my hand and pulled me away from the bar.
‘We’ve a party to go to. Come on.’
Chapter Seventeen
‘Whoa. Where did all the people come from?’
For the second time that day, I was shell-shocked to find myself confronted with a crowd where I had expected none. Mike had pushed open the door to the VIP lounge, and the place was rammed.
‘What do you mean?’
Mike had to lean close to my ear to make himself heard, and I relished the waft of aftershave and fresh laundry that enveloped him.
‘Have you had a shower?’
‘What?’
I blushed to my roots. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be crass. It’s just…’
‘Just what?’ Mike had caught on to my embarrassment and teased me mercilessly.
‘Nothing. Only, you smell fresh out of the shower, that’s all.’
Cue belly laugh. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t mingle with the high and mighty dripping with sweat after a show, would I? There’s showers backstage and everything. I like to be…fresh.’
He snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me towards him as he said, ‘fresh’, and a delicious thrill tingled down my spine.
‘Oh. Right. Of course. So, the high and mighty, right? I thought everybody had left.’ I steered the conversation back to my original question.
‘They had. These are new guests arrived for the purposes of showing off. Record execs, press, some TV folks…the usual. This is the bit where I work the room and schmooze.’
‘Schmooze, ah. Right. Well, I can’t help you with that,’ I backtracked, feeling way out of my depth.
‘On the contrary. You’re perfect. Walk with me.’
His arm still around my waist, he propelled me forwards, and we began making our way through the thronged room. After only a few steps, Mike held out his free hand to a passing waiter and equipped us both with a glass of champagne.
‘Cheers.’ Mischief danced in his eyes, and I giggled.
‘Cheers.’
‘Mikey! Great show!’ A booming voice came from behind me, and its owner slapped ‘Mikey’ heartily on the shoulder, narrowly avoiding giving me a black eye with his elbow.
‘Dexter. Good to see you.’ Mike returned the slap and swung me around to face the man. I caught the merest glimpse of distaste on Mike’s face before he mustered a wide smile and offered introductions. ‘Emily, this is Dexter Gartier of the London Morning Read. Dexter, this is Emily Trenden, my most cherished VIP of the night.’
I smiled a polite ‘how do you do’ at Dexter, who leered back suggestively.
‘Most cherished VIP, I see, I see.’
‘Indeed,’ I replied sweetly. ‘And what is it you do at the Morning Read, Fletcher?
‘It’s Dexter,’ Dexter corrected, looking somewhat rattled. ‘And I’m the Chief Editor.’
I pretended to be surprised. ‘You’re Dexter? As in, the Dexter Gartier?’ Of course, I had no idea who he was, but I could certainly play the game.
Mike stifled a laugh. I could hear him snort into his drink.
Dexter drew up that little bit straighter and puffed out his chest. ‘I am indeed.’
‘I see. Nice to meet you, Dexter.’
Mike’s arm was shaking around my waist.
‘Darling,’ I addressed Mike in my sweetest voice. ‘I’m feeling a little faint. I absolutely must find a bite to eat. Will you excuse me?’
‘Of course, of course,’ Mike crooned. ‘I’ll catch you shortly, okay?’
‘Okay.’
Damn. I had rather hoped he would play along and join me, but I supposed he had a job to do. I disentangled myself from Mike’s arm and gave an insouciant little wave of the hand. ‘See you later, babe. Dexter.’
I flounced off before either man could respond. Now what?
Sam was what. I had barely negotiated my way amongst three groups of people in the rough direction of where I assumed the midnight buffet would be set up when the Rock Radio DJ appeared by my side.
‘Emily!’ He greeted me like a long-lost friend.
‘Sam!’ My response was equally effusive, if intended to be slightly ironic. Sam was too inebriated to notice.
‘How did you enjoy the show?’
‘It was fab. Really, it rocked. Thank you so much again for the tickets.’
‘No problem.’ Sam swayed back and forth slightly. ‘You were looking pretty cosy with Mike out there.’
First Tara, now Sam. What business was it of anybody’s?
‘Really? We were only talking.’
‘Ah. Yeah, Mike is a great talker.’
There was that knowing undertone again. Was Mike the serial womaniser, or what?
‘Do you listen to the show often?’
Sam’s question caught me off guard. ‘Show? What show?’
‘My show. You know. On Rock Radio.’
‘Oh! Right.’
‘And? Do you?
‘Er. No. Sorry. My ex-boyfriend is the big fan. You know. He who isn’t here.’
‘Oh. So this gig wasn’t your thing at all, really?’
‘No, no! I mean, yes! I loved every minute of it. I’m thrilled I came. It was…it was a real experience. I’ll never forget this night.’
Sam looked slightly mollified at this assurance, but I wasn’t done with the gushing.
‘I’ll be listening to your show from now on, too. I’m a total convert, you see. I really enjoyed the concert, and I can’t wait to hear more rock. Rock on!’
Sam didn’t seem to notice anything weird about my vociferous enthusiasm. ‘Great,’ he boomed. ‘I’m glad to hear it. Always great to meet a fan. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again.’
‘That would be nice,’ I concurred, although I doubted that very much. Sam disappeared in the crowd, evidently having forgotten his threat to interview me. I sighed with relief and fled to the ladies’ room for a moment. I needed to cool down and freshen up. And I wanted to check my text messages. Just in case…well, just in case.
Chapter Eighteen
Just in case didn’t happen. There wasn’t a single message on my phone. Then again, I hadn’t really expected any. I turned my phone off altogether and stuffed it in the bottom of my little handbag. A final critical look at myself in the mirror confirmed that my essential repair works had done the job. My hair was brushed out of my face and untangled, my mascara was fresh and even, and my lips were once again a-sparkle with a subtle coat of lip gloss. I looked a little tired, but it was past midnight, and I was doing okay, all things considered.
Thus reassured, I launched myself into the party with renewed energy. The music was loud and the lights were low. I couldn’t see Mike or anyone else I knew—but of course, I wouldn’t really know anyone here—so I danced by myself for a while and gave myself up to the moment. My thoughts were freewheeling, and I was astounded by how much fun I was having. Why, oh why, had I missed out on all of this when I was a student? Where had I been, I wondered?
‘There you are.’ Mike’s voice was gentle in my ears as once again he wrapped his arms around me from behind. The gesture felt strangely familiar, as if we were going out; as if we had been going out for a while. My body fit snugly against his as if they were two halves of a whole.
The notion was disturbing, so I stepped out of Mike’s embrace and turned to face him. ‘Here I am.’
Immediately, Mike pulled me close again into a slow, measured dance, even though the beat of the music was fast and pounding. I resisted at first, but then I thought, why not? What was the harm in
having a dance with this man? Besides, I was tired, and it was lovely to put my head on his shoulders while we swayed gently.
‘Well done you for putting Dexter in his place.’
I snorted. ‘Hardly. But his attitude bothered me.’
‘As well it should. He’s a nasty piece of work. I’m sorry I couldn’t follow you straight away.’ He shrugged. The movement pushed my face closer to his, and he planted a quick kiss on the side of my cheek.
‘I understand,’ I whispered. ‘Things to do, places to see…’
‘Bottoms to kiss, and all that. You got it. But I’m done with that now. Hey—’
He ground to a halt and pulled back a little to look me in the eyes. ‘Let’s get out of here. Come with me.’
I swallowed. This was the point where I should make my excuses. This was the point where I should end the evening. I knew exactly what he meant by going somewhere quiet. It was obvious. It was so clichéd, it was untrue. In fact, I couldn’t quite believe he had actually said it. My pulse thrummed in my ears, and my throat had all but dried up. I swallowed again so I could speak.
‘Sure. Sounds great.’
What?
‘Excellent.’ Mike traced a finger down the side of my face and dropped his hand to grasp mine. ‘Follow me.’
I let myself be led across the dance floor in a steady, undulating half dance which seemed to make it a little less obvious that we were leaving. Every few seconds we stopped as Mike exchanged perfunctory pleasantries, and people laughed and cheered and clapped him on the back.
Me, I smiled and ignored the voices in my head. I wanted to be reckless, just this once. I was walking into this with my eyes wide open, and if I didn’t go for it now, I would forever regret it. I would. I wanted a one-night stand with this man, this rock star, with Mike. The very thrill of the idea was breathtaking, the sensation was heady and lusty, and the whole thing was totally inevitable. I was up for it. I wanted Mike, for whatever reason, right or wrong, good or bad, I wanted.