by Lux,Vivian
Neal shot me a baleful look, and the sort of limply slid his hand across mine.
Hell yeah, motherfucker. I'm going to make you laugh if it kills you. Or me.
"I hope you wear ear protection onstage, Mr. Stowe," Neal pleaded. His voice was anything but bland now.
At least he'd stopped calling me 'sir.' "Oh yeah, of course, Neal. Though I sometimes forget."
He swiveled at a stoplight, his face stricken. "You need to wear earplugs all the time, okay? Promise me that."
"Okay Neal," I smiled. "Thanks for looking out."
He nodded once and then turned back to the road. "I used to love going to shows too. Broke my arm in the pit once."
"Badass."
He grinned proudly. I could see it in the rearview. I took another swig, feeling more confident by the second.
Which was fucking good, because I needed every ounce of confidence once I saw the crowd that gathered outside of Sound Exchange, a huge, four-level nightclub that usually hosted the type of club-goers that made me star-struck.
"Fuck," I whispered, as the crowd surged forward. Eager faces pressed against the glass. They were all looking to see who rolled up just now. "They're gonna be pissed when they see it's just me in here," I sighed nervously to Neal.
Neal twisted around. "Think you're the one they want to see, Low."
I gave him a wan smile. "Least you didn't call me sir that time, huh?"
"Should I open the door, Low?"
I took another swig and then nodded.
The crowd was an animal, a massive thing taking a collective breath with hundreds of lungs simultaneously.
And then the screaming started.
I reacted on pure, adrenaline-fueled instinct. The terror sharpened my senses, so I felt like I was moving in slow motion, each smile precise, and each wave perfectly executed. I had seen this happen to Maddie, to Rane and definitely to Keir, so I knew exactly how to wave, point and grin at the crowd that pressed in close all trying to touch me. This I could handle.
What I couldn't handle was the massive, two-story banner that hung down from the roof over the entrance to the club. The banner with my own Photoshopped face on it, glowering down at me.
Seeing that? It should have been a triumph, but instead, it added to the feeling that this, all of this, was just pretend. That any moment I would wake up and be myself again, the goofy, somewhat dim-witted drummer for a successful rock band.
A big security guard came rushing down. He was taller than my six foot five frame by at least a couple more inches and he weighed probably double. I usually don't like being smaller than other guys, makes me feel odd, but I was grateful this guy was big enough to part the crowd with an elbow and make way for me to get into the building. I cast one more look over my shoulder to watch the crowd close behind me, shutting Neal and my escape away from my view.
Arriving alone like this was weird. When you're a twin, you're rarely alone, you have someone there right beside you all of your life. But this kind of thing - parties, crowds, mingling - this was all way beyond what Piper could handle. I looked down, imagining her swearing at the people who were jostling me right now and had to suppress a grin. If she ever got over her fears, she'd be so much better at this than I could ever be.
The security guard opened the massive, wood-carved door, and unleashed a wave of sound pulsing from the dance floor. "After you, sir," he glowered.
"Don't call me sir," I muttered automatically. I took two steps into the entrance and then stopped short.
My face. My face was fucking...everywhere. All the print ads for all of the different markets were blown up and hung on the walls like Twitch/Low wallpaper. Be Hungry, Be Ruthless the tagline read.
And the girls who writhed and posed and danced underneath my face seemed to have taken that advice to heart. I passed through the throng of them, feeling the way their eyes bored into my back. Fuck, I realized, if I just went up to any one of these chicks and tapped them on the shoulder, I'd be getting a public blow-job in seconds.
This ain't so bad.
Is this what it's like in the spotlight?
The thought was both terrifying and appealing.
I needed a drink.
I put my head down, intent on getting my ass to the bar as quickly as possible. And I was nearly there, when someone planted herself directly in my path.
"Low?" A blonde chick with a pretty face and a way too skinny body gave me an eager grin. "Can I get a picture with you?"
Now I was fucked. Because as much as I wanted that beer, I couldn't do anything because a pretty girl had asked me for something. And now I'd do pretty much anything to make her happy.
"Sure, baby," I drawled.
She squealed and gestured to her friends, who crowded around her. I ducked down to fit with them and she held out her phone. "Shit, I can't fit...Shiloh, get your head in the picture!" She shot me a weary grimace. "I'm sorry, Low, I'm so sorry..."
"Don't worry about it. Here, gimme your phone, I promise I won't steal it."
"Um okay."
I stretched my long arm up above our heads. "There, Shiloh fits now. Say cheese ladies!"
I snapped the shot and then looked at the screen. "You all look beautiful," I told them. "Hey, get together, I'm a photographer, you're all models, make love to the camera for me!"
They whooped and posed and I ducked below them and then stood over them, trying several angles before I found the one. "You all look beautiful," I told them again, looking at the shot I'd just got.
"Holy shit, thank you!" Shiloh called when she saw herself.
"You look so hot!" the strung out blond told her friend.
"No you do!" another friend squealed and then all at once they all descended on the phone, scrolling through the shots I had taken with gasps and screams so loud I could hear them over the pulse of the music.
I grinned. Making them feel beautiful made me feel way more confident. I squared my shoulders and said my goodbyes, then headed back to the bar.
Only to see Keir already there, leaning against the rail and grinning like a jack-o'lantern.
"What?" I asked, by way of greeting."
"You," he said, slapping me on the back. "You're a fucking model. What the shit is this?"
"No idea," I said, shaking my head and accepting the beer he handed me. Then I did a double-take at the bottle of Labatt Blue in my hand. "Oh shit, where'd you find the Blue?"
"Had it ordered in special. Imported straight from Buffalo." He tapped the bar twice with his knuckle and then looked out into the crowd.
"Thanks, man." I took a deep, satisfying pull and stared out into the crowd, all gathered here for me. And maybe I had had a bit too much Gentleman Jack in the limo, maybe I'd drunk Neal's share too, because the crowd started to blur together, a sea a faces with wide open, grimacing smiles. The lights and sounds all streaked together.
Twin comets in red and blue hurtled out of the crowd and I almost fell off my fucking stool when they nearly crashed into us.
The one that landed on Keir's lap resolved itself into the red-clad shape of Scarlett Sawyer, his fiancée, the girl he'd loved for longer than Ruthless had been together. I looked away when things started getting hot and heavy with them, and straight into the eyes of the blue comet, no, angel, that had plummeted to earth next to me.
"Hey," she said breathlessly. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wild and she was the most beautiful fucking thing I had ever seen. "You're Lowell, right? Thanks for letting me come to your party. You have no idea how badly I needed this."
Chapter 5
Zoe
"Goddamn, girl!" Scarlett crowed. "Wait, turn around. Twirl for me."
I obliged with the biggest, stupidest grin on my face.
"Goddamn," she repeated.
"I'm not saying a word," Keir said, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "But I think a few of the guys at the party might."
I shimmied from foot to foot, feeling the dress swish against my thighs. I
had done exactly what Jason had instructed and spent right down to my last dime. The dress didn't cost a million bucks, but it sure made me feel like it. It was the perfect shade of sapphire blue, the kind of blue that did something to my dirt brown hair, made it look more, I don't know chestnutty or something. It was nipped in at the waist, the part of me that had so far escaped the layer of sadfat, but flounced out in a series of box pleats that the sales girl had described as flirty.
Flirty for sure. "I feel like my old self again," I sighed to Scarlett as we slid into the waiting limo.
"I'm so happy to hear that," Scarlet said warmly. "Let's have a blast tonight, okay? Promise?"
I nodded enthusiastically, already feeling the excitement of possibility coursing through my veins. Tonight, I was having fun. Tonight, I was young. Tonight I wasn't this sad, unemployed recluse I was slowly turning into. Tonight I was Zoe Chandler, partying with rock stars and I was going to fucking dance.
The crowd in front of the club felt like the old days all over again. I could feel the jealous stares of the girls congregating at the entrance, hoping to be invited in. This used to be my life, flashing my press credentials, showing off my backstage access and heading to the front of the line.
Only this time I was propelled to the front of the line because I was arriving with Keir Wilder. It didn't even matter that I was clearly the third wheel. I shot a winning smile over my shoulder as the flashbulbs went off, then grabbed a startled Keir and shoved him in front of me.
"I want to dance!" I nearly screamed. "Get us in there!"
I felt, rather than heard his chuckle. Scarlett grabbed his arm and the three of us made our way into the dark, deafening club.
Swirling lights bounced off the two-story high banners that hung from the ceiling. "Oh my god, is this your fragrance experience?" I teased Keir.
He chuckled. "Awful, isn't it?"
Scarlett shook her head. "I think Twitch looks good!" she said, grabbing her boyfriend's hand.
I looked again. The face that glowered down at me was faintly familiar. I knew I'd seen the drummer for Ruthless before, but this was the first time I'd ever thought to really take in his face.
There was an odd, angular quality to his features that made him look almost...otherworldly. His eyes turned up at the edges, his cheekbones were as sharp as glass and the hollow below them was deeply shadowed. The ad had been Photoshopped to within an inch of its life, but there was still some humanity there, something that couldn't be erased. I couldn't figure it out. Until it hit me all at once.
His eyes. There was a light inside of them and that light was not otherworldly at all. It was a light full of mischief and fun.
It made me smile back at the picture, without even meaning to.
"Hot damn that's a good picture," I exclaimed.
"So I've heard," Keir sighed grumpily. "You ladies want a drink?"
"Can you go deal with the bar for us?" Scarlett wheedled him. "We're here to dance." She shot me a wicked grin. "Right, Zo?"
I practically wiggled in glee. "I am so ready."
Sheer elation propelled me forward onto the massive dance floor. Buffeted by the heaving, writhing bodies around me, I let out a whoop that was half madness, half relief.
I could pretend tonight. I could start again. I could be anyone I wanted, instead of the scared, tired, ragged thing I had become.
For one night only, I had a whole wild, thrilling buffet of options and I could sample them all.
"I love you Scar!" I shouted over the bumping club music. She smiled, all of her old shyness gone now that she and Keir were firmly back together again. I grabbed her hand and forced her to spin me, and instead of ducking me like the old days, she just laughed and kept on spinning me and spinning me, like I was a top.
"I'm gonna puke!" I yelled dizzily.
"Well you're in luck, I see Keir with our drinks. Come on!"
She yanked me forward, and I stumbled after her. The room was still spinning and it matched my mood. I felt dizzy and wild and not at all myself. And that was the best fucking thing I could be.
Scarlett hurtled through the crowd, making a beeline for her man, who caught her up and pulled her right into his lap for a long, deep kiss. She let go of the hand that had been steadying me, forcing me to fling myself at a clear space at the bar to prop myself up. I looked up woozily and right into a pair of eyes so warm they practically glowed amber.
They're so much better in real life, was the first addled thought that came to my head.
"Hey, you're Lowell," I said before I could catch myself. And then, as if needing to double down on the awkwardness, I kept on babbling like I already knew this guy, like staring at his two-story face had somehow served as an introduction. "Thank you for inviting me, you had no idea how much I needed this."
The corners of his amazing eyes crinkled. It was only then that I started to register the rest of the face they inhabited.
The static glare of the photograph didn't reflect reality at all. His face was alive with tiny little quirks and micro-expressions. His mouth curled up with boyish glee. "No problem," he said. "I'm glad I was able to give you what you needed."
I looked up at him sharply. "Is that innuendo?"
The corners of his mouth turned down in offended innocence but there was no mistaking the way those eyes twinkled. "Only if you want it to be." He leaned back on his stool.
"Hell, I'd be an idiot not to flirt with a rock-star slash model," I grinned. I still felt dizzy, but now it had nothing to do with spinning.
"And you don't strike me as an idiot, Blue."
"My name is Zoe. I'm here with..." I gestured over to where Scarlett was entwined with Keir. "My friend over there, but she seems to have gotten distracted."
"Damn, that sucks. If I had come here with you, I wouldn't let you out of my sight."
"Yeah?" His nearness was breathtaking. As in, I was literally having trouble catching my breath. I realized that I had seen him before tonight. In the background of pictures, a quick cut in the videos. Of course. He was the manic energy that fueled the whole band.
But up until now, I couldn't say I'd ever seen him up close. Two-story tall banners didn’t exactly count.
But right now?
He was super fucking close to me. And he was watching every move I made with those turned up eyes.
"No, I'd keep watch on you all the time. And when I wasn't with you, I'd be looking at your picture so that I could see you even more." He grinned slyly and then ran his tongue along his bottom lip so that it shone like an invitation.
"You don't have a picture of me," I pointed out.
He leaned back. "And that's a shame. Because then I could show you how beautiful you are.
Chapter 6
Low
In a sea of plastic, she was the real deal. Once I saw her, I finally realized what was so off-putting about this whole party. All the girls...they danced because they felt like they had to.
But Zoe? She moved with the reckless abandon of a girl who has to dance. I'm a fucking musician. Music moves me. I move the music. And as she stood in front of me, I could see that we were two of a kind. She couldn't stop moving, swaying, shimmying. My own hands drummed on my thighs, aching to touch her and press her close to me so that we could move together. She threw her head back, her hair falling over her shoulders so beautifully that for a second I wished I was a fucking photographer so that I could capture that image forever.
"I like watching you dance," I told her. For some reason, I had the feeling I could tell Zoe the truth. About everything.
She grinned, tucked her hair behind her ear. "You can watch me, I don't mind."
"You like being watched, Zoe?"
"Is that more innuendo?"
I pressed my hand to my heart. "Honest question, I swear. Scout's honor."
"Bullshit, you were never a scout."
"Hey now, I made it all the way to Arrow of Light."
She was amused. "Then what happened?"
/>
I grinned. "Found a drum kit at a garage sale."
"And the rest was history?"
I reached for her hand. "Yup. The history that led up to tonight, and you letting me watch you dance."
"Oh, you're smooth."
"Not usually, but that's the alcohol talking."
She looked over her my shoulder. "Speaking of which, Keir said he was getting a drink for me."
I managed to tear my eyes away from her face long enough to register that Keir had forgotten about the world entirely. "Well, then I see it's up to me to redeem the entire band in your eyes. I wouldn't want to lose a fan."
Her eyes twinkled. "I'm not a fan."
"No?"
She leaned forward, placing her hands right on my knee. The jolt that went through me when she touched me made me twitch just like my nickname. "I'm a music writer," she told me, holding my gaze. "This is my job."
I swallowed. "Well," I told her. "You're really good at it."
The way she smiled told me that I'd said something she really needed to hear. "Thanks," she said, very sincerely.
Curiosity ignited, I turned and rapped my knuckles on the bar. "Another Blue for me, and whatever she's having."
She absentmindedly tucked her hair behind one ear, exposing her shoulder. There was one, long, smooth, beautifully curved line that stretched from the soft place behind her ear all the way down to her exposed shoulder. Without meaning to, I closed my eyes, trying to hold that picture in my head for as long as possible.
I was ready to marry her right then and there, and that was even before she called out her order. "Jack on the rocks."
A girl after my own heart. I held up my flask. "My first choice as well."
She smiled at me. I smiled back. It was beautiful and perfect and for once in my life I was content to just let the anticipation hang there in the air. It was the first time I ever sincerely wished time would just stop and I could just live here, frozen in time, looking at her face, forever. I wanted to hold on and savor...something to counteract all the rapid-fire changes in the past year.
Her lips seem like a good place to start.
I leaned forward.