What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 3)

by Lauren Hawkeye

  There’s a calm in the stories now told

  A tale of a girl gone wrong

  Turned on Set upon Smash and burn

  I guess you know why

  There were no lies in the way she lay

  Broken, Alone, No place to call home

  Split apart, You splintered her bones

  A lie you told why

  The Walls have gone up, the Walls have closed down

  The Walls that you have built up

  Built up inside you

  There was more than a break in the smiles

  I’d never known her to cry

  A river, a lake, a flood plain

  She’s shaking lost again

  You splintered her bones

  Splintered her bones

  Slamming the Walls down

  The Walls have gone up, the Walls have closed down

  The Walls that you have built up

  Built up inside you

  As the last chords of the song echoed out into silence, I felt confidence brimming inside me and I looked up right into the eyes of Will Strickland and I almost tripped over my guitar lead, my heart doing a little flip-flop. He was shaking his head, a grin on his face, clapping along with the rest of the crowd around him.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ripped out the lead from my guitar and made a hasty exit, stage right, not quite understanding why it had riled me up. Suddenly, I grimaced, realizing that somewhere along the line, I had developed an epic crush on the guy.

  Dee appeared behind me and helped me begin to pack away our gear so Ipswich could set up.

  “You were ah-maze-ing,” He grinned at me like a proud parent. “What a rush, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, realizing it was more the rush from just having shown myself and everyone out there that I can do this band thing, than seeing Will Strickland in the crowd. “Yeah, it was.”

  “Wanna do it again?”

  “Sure.”

  The rest of the night, I hardly looked at anyone. If someone said hello, I would peek out from under my hair and say hi. Mostly, I didn’t recognize anyone and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Our set had gone over well. So well, people stopped us to say how much they liked it and a few even asked if we had an EP. When I finally stood at the bar, I almost had a heart attack when I saw Will Strickland standing right next to me, his arm pressed up against mine in the tight space. The sudden awareness of my crush tingled down my bare arm making me jerk away.

  He suddenly realized I was standing there and looked at me with a sly grin on his face. Like the wolf who’d caught the lamb unawares.

  “Hey,” he said with a lopsided grin.

  “Hey,” I said and almost choked when Dee grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

  “Not on my watch,” he said, glaring back at Will.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I’m almost shouting at him.

  “He’s not right for you.”

  “Who died and made you my Dad?”

  “Zoe.” He ran a hand over his face. “I just got you back. A guy like that will just use you and chuck you back just as broken as before. I can’t see you like that again.”

  “You’re the one who worked so hard to get me to move on,” I said and gestured around us. “And look where we are. He wanted to talk to me.” And before he wouldn’t have.

  “Yeah, I want you to move on, but not to another idiot.”

  I knew Dee’s heart was in the right place, but I couldn’t say that I wasn’t annoyed. I knew exactly who Will Strickland was. How could I forget with Dee around to remind me?

  “Okay,” I said. “From now on, I’ll let you screen all my dates. If I get some.”

  He knew I was having him on and his face softened. “I expect a resume, you know.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. Chris appeared beside us then and had a girl trailing behind him. She was quite pretty. Blonde, friendly face, dressed in black jeans, boots and a fitted Ramones t-shirt.

  “This is my friend Simone,” Chris said, nodding at the girl.

  “Hi.” She held out her hand and I shook it with a small smile. “You were great.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a shrug.

  “Wanna get a drink?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  Dee pushed me toward the bar with Simone and I couldn’t help but warming to her when she linked her arm through mine like we’re already best buddies. She smiled at the bartender and she was pretty enough that he let it slide and jump the queue.

  She handed me a bottled cider a moment later with a grin. “I noticed you had one on stage.”

  Wow. “Thanks. So, what do you do?”

  “I study Music Management at Swinburne Uni,” she said. “I have no musical talent, not like you! I wish, though. I want to manage a band or a venue one day.”

  “Oh, that’s cool.” She seemed outgoing enough to be able to do it and I wondered if it’s why she’s hanging out with me and buying drinks. We’d played one gig and she wanted to be my friend. Or perhaps, she just wanted to get to know me. I had to get over my own hang-ups.

  “Hey,” she said suddenly. “Has anyone ever told you you look like Alison Mosshart? You know, the lead singer from The Kills?”

  I blinked hard in surprise. I think I liked this girl already.

  Chapter Four

  Will

  I stood out in the middle of the street at the closest tram stop to the studio, darkness all around, apart from the traffic that passed behind me.

  We were in the middle of recording our third album and usually we all got along in such close quarters. We had long days and nights, but we’d thrived on those things. This time, we’d been at each other’s throats and I knew it was my fault. I could tell myself that it wasn’t, that I was still messed up, but that would be a lie. Months had passed since all of that and the only one who was keeping me back was me.

  I’d been driving the guys mad with my mood swings and even I didn’t know where I was coming from anymore. As if I hadn’t done enough after all that crap with my ex.

  The tram pulled up at the stop, the doors opening with a squeal and I climbed on, swiping my card at the terminal. I needed to get out, like yesterday, so I was headed for the city. There was a band I’d wanted to see for ages called Ipswich. They’d been around a while and heaps of people were talking about them and they were on tonight at Cherry. I hadn’t been out in months and I hoped this would kick my ass into gear.

  There was a girl sitting in the back of the tram with long dark-brown hair and a black jacket and I had to do a double take in case it was her. When it wasn’t, I sunk down in an empty seat, slumping against the window. Ever since I saw that woman in the crowd at our last gig, I found myself looking everywhere I went, hoping that I might see her again. I never did and I began to wonder if I’d really seen her in the first place. The only thing that stopped me from going mad was Pete. He’d seen her too.

  Sometimes, I thought going mad might be better than this. Then I’d actually know what was wrong with me. How can you pine over a girl who might or might not be real? I was such a wanker.

  Cherry Bar was probably one of my favorite places to catch a band in the city. It was small, dark and intimate. There was no backstage area. There was hardly a stage. It was like one huge house party that cost eight bucks to get into, depending on who was playing. It was a place well known for its dirty rock history and attracted all types of alternative people.

  As I walked down the alleyway towards the door, I noticed the lineup had changed. The support that was on the flyer had been dusted off the chalkboard and another had replaced it. The Devil’s Tattoo. Great name. I wondered what they were like. New bands appeared all the time and sometimes it was hard to keep up. Not many of them made it and the ones who did didn’t always stay there.

  That’s why I was so glad to be a part of The Stabs. I mean, we had that success, but we were brothers. Not all bands had that with one another, you know? Recording, touring…you had to live
on top of one another and getting along could break the best of them.

  The girl on the door took my money, but her eyes lingered on me for far too long. She was pretty enough, but not my type at all. Tall, slender, long blonde hair, tattoos and heavy make up. I was stark in contrast, wild curly hair, tattoos and a beat up denim jacket. Any guy would fall over themselves for her, but I only wanted one person. A figment of my imagination. With a thin smile, I went inside and elbowed my way straight to the bar.

  “Hey,” someone called out as I passed.

  Looking around, I saw Billy and clapped him on the shoulder. Billy was the guy who picked us up when The Stabs were playing tiny places like this. He was a talent scout for our label and it was his job to go see bands play. You know, finding the next best thing. Sounded easy, but you had to have the right kind of ear for it.

  “What are you doing out tonight?” he asked. “Aren’t you guys recording?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. I needed a break.”

  “Shit,” he said with a chuckle. “I know what you mean, bro.”

  He introduced me to a few people he was with and when they heard who I was they all seemed very interested. Drawback number one of being in a band people know. They suddenly want to know you and be popular by association. I didn’t subscribe to that shit.

  “Have you seen ’em before?” Billy asked, picking up on my mood. “Ipswich?”

  “Na.” I shook my head. “I’ve heard some good things, though.”

  “What about that other band? I’ve never heard of them before.”

  I remembered the band that had been added last minute. “No. They must be new.”

  “Oh, they’re starting,” Billy said, looking over the crowd towards the stage. “I’m going down front. Catch you round, bro.”

  As people moved away from the bar to hear the band, I snuck in and got a drink and weaved my way toward the top of the stairs. Here, I could see and not be bothered.

  The Devil’s Tattoo was a typical four piece. Two guitars, bass and drums. There were three guys and a girl and suddenly, I was interested. Guys usually dominate these types of rock bands. Her back was to the crowd, but I could see she must have an attitude. She’s got on a black leather biker jacket, tight black jeans that hug her ass in just the right way and beat up combat boots. My type of girl. Her hair was long, dark and wavy and I suddenly wondered… When she turned around, her hair was covering most of her face, but I’d recognize it anywhere and my heart thudded painfully in my chest. It was her. It had to be.

  God, and then she opened her mouth and sang. Ever read one of those stories about sailors getting lost at sea and drowning themselves because of siren calls from beautiful mermaids? Sounded bloody stupid, but she’s fucking calling to me now and I would have drowned myself gladly.

  Her fingers glided across the strings of her guitar effortlessly and I wondered why I’d never heard of this band before or any other band she’d been a part of. She was…phenomenal. I had to get closer, so I threaded my way through the crowd of people and I swear everyone who’s watching is mesmerized. They’re bloody brilliant. If Billy doesn’t pick them up, he’s mad. Shit, I’d push for them to be signed myself.

  Standing in the middle of the room, five people out from the stage, I just watched, the drink in my hand forgotten. They run through song after song, people cheering and clapping around me, but I’ve only got eyes for her. The ghost, the siren and I think I’m alive again.

  Before I’m ready, they start playing the last song of their set and it took my breath away, how sad and soulful it was. I hung on every word and it was so gut wrenching, I wondered if she’d been hurt by someone.

  As the last notes died away into applause, I shook my head and clapped, overwhelmed. That’s when she chose to look up at the crowd for the first time and her eyes collided with mine. For a moment I thought she might have remembered me, but she looked away and hurried off stage, leaving my heart thumping.

  “Wow,” Billy said behind me. “I’d keep my eye on them.”

  Oh man, I intended to.

  I watched as people stopped and talked to her. The way she shrunk back into her hair was captivating. Was she shy? Did she think about people the same way I did? What did her voice sound like when she wasn’t singing? I looked back at the bartender, who was still serving another person and when I turned around, she was gone.

  I leaned against the bar with a sigh, determined to talk to her. This time, I wouldn’t let her get away without at least getting her name. Someone pressed against me, a warm arm against my skin and I turned to glare, but everywhere tingled and burned. It was her, and abruptly I began to understand the depth of the thing I had for this woman who I didn’t even know.

  Angling my body face on to hers, I smiled and managed to get out the word, “Hey.”

  Her face softened and she said, “Hey.”

  Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away from me, her eyes wide with surprise, the soft, innocent way she’d spoken to me leaving me breathless.

  Watching her with disappointment, I saw it was one of the guys from her band and he’s talking to her with a scowl on his face. Were they together? He sure seemed protective. The thought had never crossed my mind that she might already be taken. That guy looked pissed and it wasn’t a stretch for anyone to find out about my reputation. The guy let her go and the way he acted towards her let me know that they were just friends.

  And the thing about reputations was that they were not always true. I’d been pigeonholed as the typical rock star player. Womanizer. One night stand aficionado. All because of one woman who’d smashed me to bits. Now, I was stuck with it.

  Watching as the lead singer of my new favorite band, The Devil’s Tattoo, was dragged away to pick up their gear, I knew I had to do something. First things first was convincing Billy to take a second look. Then maybe I’d be able to see her again in an official capacity and then maybe my reputation mightn’t get in the way.

  Turned out, The Devil’s Tattoo did their own work toward getting signed. Billy picked them up not long after the gig and for once in my life, things seemed to be moving in the right direction. And it was one interview in Beat that gave me the information I was looking for. Her name.

  Zoe Granger.

  Chapter Five

  Zoe

  The next six months went by in a blur. I’d gotten past the first gig, but it was only the first. Once Dee had me going, he went full tilt booking gigs and getting our name out there. He’d even gotten me to sing a few songs with him on the street. He told me it wasn’t a coincidence that he earned more money on those days than the ones without me.

  The next thing on the list was to get something down in mp3 form. Frank knew a guy out in Footscray who’d set up a recording studio in his shed. Knowing the kind of people Frank knew, I had been expecting soundproofing to be gaffer taped to the wall and the mower in the corner, but it was a really tight outfit. The guy had helped some other local bands record some songs and we had a really great time with it.

  Everything we’d done up until now had been just for kicks. Dee had promised me black and blue. That was, until he posted our EP online and went on a marketing binge in his spare time. I hadn’t realized what he’d done until I heard our song on the radio. On the bloody radio. I was mad for two seconds until I heard what people were saying about it. Then the phone started ringing. People wanted to know what I thought and people actually listened.

  All the time we’d been playing, not once did I see one of my old friends and not once did I think about them. Once I’d faced my fear at that first gig, it was straight ahead and no looking back. I felt more confident now than I had in my entire life.

  Then Chris hooked us up with a guy he knew who was a film major at RMIT. He needed a project for his finals and we were it. We had an EP and a music video for Walls, now all we needed was the contract and it wasn’t long in following. With a label at our backs and royalties starting to come in, I quit my job in t
he mailroom and started busking with Dee for a little extra cash to put into savings.

  We played a lot of gigs around Melbourne and even went to a few regional towns and came out of it breaking even and sometimes with a little more. We did photo shoots and interviews and people were downloading our self-released EP in droves, but we still didn’t have enough money between us to go further afield. The label was working on it, but these things took time. Dee’s dream was coming true, but deep down, mine was as well. For the first time in two years, I was happy.

  Truthfully, I was expecting to feel overwhelmed by all the attention, but I felt strangely calm. I felt like I finally fit in somewhere and I owed it all to Dee.

  Today was the first day our single, Walls was available for sale. It wasn’t on our EP and it was the one thing people wanted to hear. Anything could happen now and I was feeling a little sick about it.

  I was still asleep when the phone rang. It was my Mum.

  “I bought your single on the computer just now,” she told me. I gathered she meant from iTunes. I gushed at how technological and modern she was and I could tell she was proud she figured it out without having to call me first. “Are you nervous?”

  Of course I was nervous today. I told her as much. Our first single was released ten minutes ago according to the clock on my radio. “I’ve got to go, Mum. They want to interview me and Frank for the radio later.”

  I pressed the red phone button and made sure the line was disconnecting before cursing out loud. The phone rung again. Unknown Number. I picked it up anyway.

  “Hello?”

  “Walls has gone to number fucking eight on iTunes!” It was Dee on the other end.

  Shit.

  “Are you there, Zoe?”

  “Yeah. Shit. Already? Guess we better organize a show or something, huh?”