by Bryce Oakley
Chapter Nine
Billie
Billie lay facedown on her bed, resisting the urge to scream into the pillow.
Her hair was damp from her gloriously warm shower, but her mind raced with uncertainty.
All she had wanted when she arrived in Telluride was an outlet for her songs. For a new experience. For some part of her own musician’s journey to be only hers.
And now?
Now she was stuck with one of the most confusing, frustrating women she had ever had the displeasure of knowing.
They had been having such a nice time together at the hot springs. The Ice Queen was melting — and looking extraordinarily good in a teeny white bikini at the same time. Not that Billie had noticed, of course. And then something had set Vero into a blind rage.
It had been days and they still didn't have a song
She clutched the pillow beneath her as frustrated tears began to well in her eyes.
There was a fine line between what Billie had done to upset Vero and what Vero had overreacted about. Clearly, Vero had a lot of issues to sort through on her own, but had Billie done something wrong to make her react in that way?
Why could Billie never shut the fuck up around Vero? Why did she always feel the need to ask more, to press for more details?
What had come over her?
Her phone rang with Zoey’s ringtone: “Dancing Queen” by ABBA.
She rolled onto her side, sniffling, and cleared her throat before answering.
“Hey Zo, what’s up?” She said, trying her hardest to keep her voice natural.
“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Zoey asked.
“What? Nothing,” Billie said, a little too quickly to be believable. She sniffled again and sighed. “Just a hard day, sorry. How are you?”
“Okay, formalities aside, I have some news you’re going to want to hear,” Zoey said, and Billie could almost hear the grin on her face.
“Oh?” Billie squeaked.
Zoey was the coolest person Billie knew. She was also Billie’s only straight-ish friend and bandmate. Being friends with her was akin to feeling like the most popular girl in school had picked her to sit with at lunch. She was still a bit in awe of the fact that Zoey had ever become her friend.
“Hold on, let me go somewhere a tiny bit more private,” Zoey said.
Billie noticed the background noise quieted after a moment. “Where are you? Some cool party?”
“Something like that,” Zoey laughed.
Zoey had somehow become a fashion icon, and Billie imagined that the parties she attended were all similar in style to the Met Ball, however unrealistic that vision might have been.
Zoey pitched her voice lower. “Alright, I just received confirmation that Lara Nicholas dated Vero.”
“Confirmation? From who?” Billie asked, sitting up in her bed. Lara Nicholas was in UltraViolet — that'd be big news if it were true.
“From Lara,” Zoey said, her voice dipping right into an excited gossipy-whisper.
Billie felt a sudden protective flair over the subject. Her hackles were raised with an instant distrust of Lara. “Does Lara just go around outing their relationship at every party? What did she tell you?”
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Zoey said.
“Sorry, I’m just wondering how and why you heard that,” Billie said, taking a deep breath.
“She approached me. She asked if I knew if you and Vero were hooking up,” Zoey said. “Hooking up. Her exact words.”
Billie scoffed. “And what did you say?”
Zoey laughed. “I said that if anyone would try to get with Vero, it’d be Domino, not you,” she said, still laughing.
Billie glared at the wall, knowing she was right but hating the realization regardless. The term ‘get with’ in particular made her angry and feel slimy.
“It feels kind of gross to be talking about this,” Billie admitted, shifting her legs uncomfortably on the bed. “Like a huge breach of trust.”
“Aw, my sweet, pure angel,” Zoey said with a giggle. "Just passing along what I thought might be vital info, that’s all. Hope everything’s well there! Love you!”
Billie groaned her own goodbyes, setting the phone down on the immaculate bedspread in front of her.
She felt like she had to shower all over again.
A few weeks ago, she would have gladly gossiped about Vero’s relationships. Now, knowing how Vero reacted when her privacy was in question, a pit had lodged in her stomach.
Accompanying that pit was something else. Curiosity? A strange sense of jealousy?
Hope?
* * *
Later that day, she sat in the music room, tuning her guitar. She had indulged in buying nicer electric guitars for shows, but her trusty acoustic guitar had been with her since she was 15.
It had all the scratches and marks to prove it.
Compared to the Gibson, Martin, and Ibanez guitars hanging on the walls, her beat up, off-brand guitar felt conspicuously out of place. She was eyeing up the Gibson Hummingbird when one of her guitar strings snapped suddenly.
She rolled her eyes, staring down at the guitar in her lap. “A little dramatic,” she murmured, setting it down on the ground as she rooted around in her case for a pack of strings and her tools.
“Lose something?” Vero’s voice came from above her.
“Nah, just being punished for my wandering eye,” she admitted, finding the package of looped guitar strings. She double checked which string it was, then pulled out a D string. It wasn’t ideal to change just one, but she didn’t have time to change them all.
Vero was giving her a skeptical look, but sat down in a seat near her just the same.
“So, you ready to jam with your idol?” Vero teased.
Billie rolled her eyes, flipping her guitar in her lap. Vero watched as she loosened the string from the bottom with her tools, then pulled out the bridge pin.
“Just one, hmm?” Vero asked, her voice pitched higher.
Billie sighed. “I know,” she said. She was instantly reminded of when she had begun playing and didn’t have enough money to replace all of the strings at once when only one had broken. Her guitar always sounded just slightly... off... but it was her personal guitar that she didn’t play at shows or on recordings, so what did it matter?
Still, her cheeks burned with a strange sense that she was an imposter, especially among all of the gorgeous instruments.
She was about to play with Felix Lucas. Her stomach flipped in excitement and nerves.
Her hand slipped and the broken string sliced across her arm. She hissed in pain, holding up her arm. A long scratch went from her wrist towards her elbow. What a stupid thing to do in front of Vero.
“Are you okay?” Vero’s eyes went wide.
Billie eyed her warily, noticing a big change in Vero's attitude the second she had started bleeding. Oh no, was she one of those blood-phobic people?
“I’m fine,” Billie said, resisting the urge to touch it with her dirty hands. “Can you just grab me a bandaid?” She held her arm up, trying not to get blood on anything.
“I don’t think one is going to cut it,” Vero said, standing up. She went to the door and called to Elena, giving her instructions on what she needed. She was so calm and collected that Billie’s nerves began to settle.
Vero came back to the room with Elena immediately behind her.
“Nurse Vero is on it again,” Elena joked.
“Nurse Vero?” Billie looked between the two women.
"I can't help myself," Vero said, rolling her eyes.
Vero took Billie’s wrist in her hand, looking over the wound. Billie looked down at Vero’s dark skin against her own fair complexion. Had Vero ever touched her before? Her skin was warm against Billie’s. Tiny goosebumps trailed down along her spine and she closed her eyes, trying to maintain her composure.
Vero cleaned her arm with an alcohol wipe that stung, then placed a long bandaid that covered most
of the scratch. Elena added two butterfly bandaids nearest her wrist and said something about it giving her better mobility to play that way.
Billie thanked both of them, and Elena smiled, then gathered the supplies and walked out.
“Who knew you were such a good nurse, V?” Billie joked, trying to lighten the mood and forget how her body had gone completely haywire at Vero’s simple touch.
She had no idea where the nickname had come from, but she grinned stupidly anyway at the idea of having a nickname for Vero. She watched Vero avoid her eye contact, but couldn’t help noticing that the corner of Vero’s mouth twitched in a near-smile.
“Believe me, she’s a natural. She’s had to patch up more of my stupid wounds than you can count,” Felix’s voice boomed into the room, breaking whatever strange spell had just come over them.
“Ah, the hazards of being a rock star’s daughter,” Billie jested.
“The hazards of being a daredevil’s daughter. Remember that time the ATV flipped and I had to wrap your stupid broken arm in a makeshift sling made out of my jacket?” Vero said, her voice dripping with impatience but also something else that Billie couldn’t quite name.
Vero glanced at Billie. “Then he howled in dramatic pain the entire way home and made me drive the ATV. I think I was only like, 12?”
Ah, so there was also a bit of amusement and nostalgia in the story.
Felix laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, but Billie raised a brow. “How did you know how to make a sling out of your jacket at 12?”
“She was in wilderness courses since she was what... nine?” Felix said, grabbing an acoustic bass off of the wall.
“Nine?” Billie said, her mouth hanging open in shock. Billie imagined Vero as a very spoiled kid who wouldn’t want to get dirty. Then again, she had been the one to navigate to the hot springs and jump right in without a second thought.
“Something like that,” Vero said, clearing her throat.
“Something like that?” Felix echoed. “You know she gets recertified in wilderness first response every three years?”
“Dad,” Vero scolded quietly, standing quickly from the chair beside Billie’s.
Billie was a mixture of shocked and impressed. “That’s really cool,” she said, unable to contain a huge smile that betrayed her emotions. “I’d have never guessed.”
Vero shrugged, her oversized sweater barely revealing the gesture. “Can we just play and not talk about this anymore?” She said, and Billie noticed her cheeks were slightly red.
Vero grabbed the Gibson Hummingbird guitar off of the wall. Named for the hummingbird decorations carved into the pick guard, it was one of the most stunning guitars she had ever seen, and one she had coveted for a long time.
“Here, just play this one. You’re taking forever with those damn strings,” Vero said, handing Billie the guitar with the casual air of someone who regularly held $5000 guitars.
Billie reached for the guitar, not daring to take a look at Felix. She cradled it in her arms, looking it over with her eyes and fingertips.
A symbol crash startled her and she snapped her head up to see Vero sitting behind the drum kit with bright pink drum sticks.
“Tune the damn thing. Less talk, more rock,” Vero yelled from behind the clear sound barriers.
Felix chuckled. “Atta girl,” he said.
Billie quickly tuned the Gibson, trying not to convey that her hands were shaking slightly.
She was playing not only one of the most beautiful guitars she’d ever seen, but a guitar that belonged to Felix Lucas. And not only that, but then she was going to play Felix Lucas’s guitar with Felix Lucas.
She glanced back at Vero sitting behind the drum kit. She was fussing around with the placement of her snare drum and bass drum pedal.
Vero looked even smaller behind the huge kit. Billie watched her with equal parts curiosity and amusement. How could one person be so contradictory? The Ice Queen with a wilderness medic certification?
“Okay, all tuned,” Billie said, matching both of her E strings.
The moment the words left her mouth, Vero tapped the beat with her sticks, then launched into the beginnings of Fangs’ “Oh, The Way.”
Felix tapped the beat on the front panel of his guitar, nodding his head.
“Oh, The Way,” was an interesting choice, considering it was written by the lead guitarist of Fangs, not Felix Lucas. Billie watched him slip in at the bass intro without a second thought.
She waited for the right beat to begin, trying to focus solely on her own instrument as she let the sounds of the others wrap her up in the rhythm.
It had been ages since The Shrikes had practiced. Even playing with Domino hadn’t felt the same, since they’d had complete creative drain.
Now, feeling the way the song swept her up into the waves of its melody, she wanted to float forever.
Felix began to sing the first chorus and her skin prickled with goosebumps. His signature raspy voice was much softer in the music room, since he wasn’t screaming to sold-out arenas.
“The way those jeans hug your hips,” he sang, his eyes closed. “The way that red stays on your lips.”
Billie snuck a glance at Vero. She was watching her father, a furrow in her brow.
Felix paused singing and looked up at Billie. “Take it,” he said.
She immediately missed her beat, but the other two simply kept playing, circling the rhythm back around with no rush.
It wasn’t a particularly fast song, but it wasn’t slow, either. It hit in the sweet spot of power ballad and classic rock, and had always been one of her favorites.
“Oh, the way the hair falls in your eyes,” she sang, her voice quiet at first. She cleared her throat quietly before the next line, steeling her nerves. Singing a Fangs song with Felix Lucas was too surreal. She’d be processing this exact feeling for months, maybe years. “The way you taste between your thighs.” She grinned at the line, remembering how it had always made her feel so risqué and cool singing it as she was growing up.
She stole a glance to Vero, who looked back at her with wide eyes and red cheeks.
Apparently, she wasn't the only one who thought that line was risqué.
“Fuck yeah, sing it, woman,” Felix called out.
He joined her on the chorus, harmonizing differently from the album. It made the song feel more modern, timeless.
They finished out the song, but not before Felix had demanded she attempt a guitar solo, which she has gloriously fucked up and made them all laugh.
“That wasn’t fair,” she scolded with a grin, strumming the last note.
“You’re right, you’re right,” Felix said, holding up his palms.
Billie looked up at Vero, who winked back at her. She had slipped out of her sweatshirt, playing in only a tiny tank top that showed the curves of her breasts.
Billie instantly thought about what Zoey had told her the day before about Vero and Lara. Had it been true? Was Vero into dating women, or had it been a fluke with Lara — perhaps something about the close proximity of being in a band together?
Billie quickly looked away, her throat suddenly dry.
Felix tapped out a rhythm, before launching into the first single from The Shrikes, “Wires Crossed.”
Billie almost missed her entrance as she stared at him in shock. He had a grin on his face, but didn’t look up.
Vero began, playing Meghan’s beats with expertise.
What other surprises was Billie in for today? She shook her head, picking out the familiar chords that she had played thousands of times.
They played through the song, Felix taking the melody as Billie harmonized a version of Zoey’s part. Felix knew every word and Domino’s bass line with such ease. Had he been lying about not knowing who her band was?
As the song finished, Felix grinned up at her. “I felt like a bit of an asshole the other night, but I’m a quick study,” he explained, reaching for the seltzer water beside him.
Ten years ago, if someone had told her that someday she’d be sitting in a room with Felix Lucas, playing one of her own songs, drinking sparkling grapefruit water, she’d have laughed in their face.
She laughed at the just the thought. “No, you did great,” she said, covering the strange response.
“I told you that you knew that song,” Vero said from the drums.
Felix shrugged, picking out a bass line that Billie didn’t recognize.
“Keep up,” Felix said with a grin.
They continued to play for an hour or so until Billie’s fingers ached from the effort. They had run through a bunch of classics, but had also spent a lot of time just playing off of one another. Vero had even busted out the tambourine for a few riffs.
“I can’t keep up with you young people anymore,” Felix said, standing and placing his bass back on the wall. He readjusted one of the humidifiers near the wall.
Billie laughed, leaning back in her chair. She stretched her arms over her head, watching as Felix gave his regards and left the room in search of Elena, presumably for lunch.
Vero stood, stretching her arms over her head. “That was fun,” she said, her tone a little less passionate than Billie’s might have been.
Billie nodded, picking a few chords, listening to the familiar scratch of her fingers on the guitar strings.
“Want to break for an hour and then write the damn song?” Vero asked, and Billie looked up to see Vero standing over her. The light behind her illuminated her hair, making her look angelic.
“Uh, sure,” Billie said, surprised, her heart pounding suddenly for some strange reason.
“Great. Meet me back here after dinner, then,” Vero said, walking slowly from the room. She paused at the door. “Oh, I really liked those lyrics you made up for ‘Oh, The Way.’” She grinned.
“What? Made up? What part?” Billie asked, confused. The way Vero was grinning at her made a ball of dread and suspicion wind in her stomach.
“The way you taste between your thighs?” Vero deadpanned, her eyebrow raised.
“Aren’t those...” Billie’s voice trailed off as Vero began to laugh.
Vero shook her head. “The way you taste between goodbyes,” she said.