Becoming Faith (JackholeS Book 3)

by Joy Eileen

  “I know,” I answered, bouncing with nervous energy.

  Amy shoved her phone in front of my face, chewing furiously. My breath caught, realizing what she meant. The video she uploaded of the boys in the van, while they screamed and sang along to their song, already had ten thousand views. It had only been up ten minutes.

  Lissa snatched the phone out of Amy’s hand. She watched as I was sure the number continued to increase. Handing the phone back to Amy, she turned without a word and walked to the other corner of the room.

  “I don’t like her,” Amy said, not bothering to lower her voice.

  “She’s just doing her job.”

  Amy’s neck swiveled around so fast I was afraid she would get whiplash.

  “I’m not saying I like her, or even trust her. I agree with you. We need to keep an eye on her, but she doesn’t think like we do. Her focus is on the bottom line and how much she can get out of this deal, or how far she can get ahead.”

  “She better be careful. I don’t have any problem going psycho crazy on her ass.”

  Amy cracked her knuckles, and I shook my head. Her tiny frame barely made it to my shoulders when I was barefoot, but that didn’t stop her from thinking she could take on the world. With the amount of sugar always coursing through her system, I figured she would get through half of it before crashing from sugar shock.

  “Let’s just watch her for now. The boys are new to this business. I don’t want them labeled divas just yet.”

  “Fine,” Amy huffed out before taking a big bite of a candy bar that magically appeared. We watched Lissa continue doing whatever the hell she was doing on her phone.

  The red light went on above the door, indicating the boys were on-air. Amy and I squealed quietly as DJ Jinx introduced them over the speakers. I wasn’t sure if it was Lissa’s cheat sheet, or the boys were just naturals, but they were flawless. I assumed the latter.

  They bantered back and forth with DJ Jinx as if they were meant to be there. When DJ Jinx intro’d their song, I could see the shine of excitement in each of their eyes. D was right when he said this was it. All the hard work and dedication the boys had placed in the band was coming to fruition.

  As the song played, I reached for Amy’s hand, smiles plastered to our faces. Kill caught my eye just before the song ended and winked at me. DJ Jinx pointed at us and started talking. We couldn’t hear what they were saying because the song was being played and the mics weren’t hot. But it was obvious they were talking about us.

  The boys and DJ Jinx gestured for us to come in the booth. We stood up, our hands still clutched together, nervous energy zinging between us. Amy’s outgoing personality allowed her to go with the attention the boys’ fame was putting on her. Me, not so much.

  “It’s going to be fun,” Amy whispered when she noticed my sweaty hand.

  “I don’t like the attention.”

  “You’re going to have to get used to it. You’re dating a rockstar. It was bound to happen.”

  “I know. I know. It’s just, I always feel like I’m going to say something stupid. I can’t help thinking all this will get Jason to come out of where he’s hiding.”

  “The PI Kill hired said he’s still in the mental hospital. Let him rot there. And don’t worry, if you say something stupid, Jet will counter it with something nasty. He’s so sweet.”

  Before I could comprehend her meaning, the door swung open and we were being ushered in by DJ Jinx.

  “What are you doing?” Lissa asked just as the door shut in her face.

  DJ Jinx ran back to the mic just before the song ended. “Hey, welcome back, that was the JackholeS’ single, “Break the Heartache,” from their debut album, This is Only the Beginning, being released in June. The JackholeS are in the studio with us, and they were just joined by two beautiful ladies.”

  Kill and Jet scooted their chairs back. Amy automatically went to Jet and plopped on his lap. I took her cue and maneuvered around until I was safe on Kill’s legs.

  “Sorry, girls. It looks like some of the band’s off the market. Who are you two? And what do you do?”

  “I’m Amy, Jet’s girlfriend.”

  Jet leaned around and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s right, guys, she’s mine. Stay away.”

  “I help with the JackholeS’ social media. I also have a new business, helping bands with their websites.”

  “She’s amazing. If you need any help with your website, I highly suggest checking out Amysgraphics.com.” Jet beamed with pride while he promoted Amy.

  “Very cool. The station’s looking to revamp their site. I’ll have to check you out.”

  “You wouldn’t be disappointed,” she shot back with a smile.

  “And you are?” DJ Jinx asked, bringing the attention to me.

  I stiffened on Kill’s lap, leaning close to the mic. “I’m Faith, Kill’s girlfriend.”

  “Did you hear that? That was the sound of thousands of women’s hearts breaking.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. It was probably true too. Kill was incredible, and with fame around him he was irresistible. I waited for my insecurities to rise up and choke me, but they never did. Kill was mine. He’d proved it time and time again. It was a relief my mind accepted this conclusion, no longer fighting the inevitable.

  “Sorry, ladies. He’s mine,” I answered, copying Jet.

  “And I couldn’t be happier,” Kill said, squeezing my leg.

  “And what do you do?” DJ Jinx asked.

  I froze, my mouth slightly open, not having anything to say. Kill saved me from embarrassment.

  “She’s a writer. She already has two novels done, and she’s completing the last in the trilogy.”

  My mind melted from the great freeze it was stuck in. Why hadn’t I thought of that answer?

  “That’s awesome. Such talent in this room. Do you have a publisher?” DJ Jinx asked.

  This time I was able to answer, my mind no longer abandoning me. “I’ve been doing a lot of research on self-publishing. You wouldn’t believe the amount of support I’ve received from the indie author community. They’re an amazing group of people. They’ve helped me with all my questions.” I snapped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t continue to babble.

  “You hear that? Not only do we get an awesome album dropped on us in two months, we’re going to get an added bonus of a book as well.”

  I shifted on Kill’s lap, stunned. In a weird way, I’d just announced my writing career. It was a reality now. At some point I was going to publish. I knew that much, but now people besides my new FaceNovel friends were going to know about it.

  “Thanks so much for hanging out with us today. The JackholeS’ album will be released on June 14. Their next single will be out in May to tease us a little bit more. I’m going to play some music for you while these guys get out of here.”

  “Thank you so much for having us,” D said.

  “Here’s Halestorm to take you away.” DJ Jinx smashed his finger to a button. “That was awesome. Thanks, you guys, for coming in.” DJ Jinx got up and shook the boys’ hands.

  “That was so much fucking fun.” Jet held on to Amy like she was the only thing keeping him from floating away.

  “My girlfriend loves to read. She’s always on her Kindle. I’ll let her know to keep an eye out for you,” DJ Jinx told me when we moved out of the studio in order to take some promotional photos together.

  “You won’t be disappointed. My girl’s an amazing writer,” Kill said, kissing me on the head.

  “Yeah, if the band doesn’t work out, we plan to live off her,” Van added, making everybody laugh.

  Everyone except Lissa. She watched our interaction. Her polished eyebrow quirked up with a look on her face that could only be described as I knew it.

  DJ Jinx called me over to join in on some of the publicity pictures, and I dismissed Lissa. Kill was right. Let her think whatever she wanted to. She didn’t know us.

  After being dismissed from the imp
romptu photo shoot, we piled into the van, Lissa right on our tail.

  “I’ll meet you at the restaurant. The execs from the label are excited to meet you.” Lissa turned her tablet toward us so we could see the lunch meeting input neatly in her calendar.

  “I canceled the lunch. We have somewhere else to be,” Jet said, shutting the door in her stunned face. “Hurry, Gunther, before she has a chance to follow us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gunther replied. He pressed his foot to the gas pedal and drove us away from a fuming Lissa.

  “Where the hell are you taking us? The label was going to be at that lunch. We need to keep them happy so they’ll keep us happy,” D screeched, grabbing his phone out of his back pocket.

  Jet snatched his phone away and threw it in the glove compartment. “Trust me. I promise this will be way better than a stuffy old lunch with a bunch of people who are pretending to like us as they kiss our asses.”

  “Jet, I don’t have time for games. I’m still the manager of this band. We need to go back.” D tugged at his hair, turning toward the back window like he was trying to get a glimpse of Lissa. “Kill, talk to him. He listens to you.”

  “Jet, do you know what you’re doing?” Kill asked, making D blow out a frustrated breath.

  “Yes, I promise this is going to be amazing,” Jet answered with sincerity.

  “I’m going to go with Jet,” Kill said, putting his arm around me and pulling me close.

  D’s face swiveled to mine, like he wanted me to somehow change Kill’s mind. I caught of glimpse of Jet, his face devoid of anything mischievous.

  “Honestly, I have a feeling whatever Jet has in store for us is going to be a thousand times better than spending another second with Lissa.” Kill kissed my cheek, and Jet held out his hand for a high five.

  “Van?” D asked, but from the sound of his voice he knew he was already outnumbered.

  “I don’t think Lissa’s that bad to hang around with. But I’ll admit I’m curious,” Van answered, earning a high five from Jet.

  “All right, let’s go see what Jet has planned for us,” D mumbled, pushing back in his seat.

  Amy patted him on the head when Gunther pulled into a battered parking lot in the back of an even more battered building.

  “We’re here,” Gunther announced, turning the van off.

  I glanced around the building and took it in. Even though it was an older building that had definitely seen better days, it appeared to be well maintained. The green paint peeled and cracked in some places, but there were also spots of newly painted areas showing the graffiti was covered over. The large windows were old but sparkled clean.

  “Where the hell is here?” D asked, looking around.

  “Come and find out,” Jet replied, jumping out of the van with Amy by his side.

  Jet knocked on the metal door and waited as we watched curiously. A large African-American woman came out. She wore a pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt with the words music for hope on it.

  Kill grabbed my hand and pulled me toward Jet and Amy, the rest of the band and Gunther right behind us.

  “Hi, I’m Amberlee. I run the Music for Hope foundation. I’m pleased to meet you,” the woman Jet was talking to said after we shook her hand. “The kids are so excited to meet you. They heard your song on the radio and have been jumping around with excitement.”

  “We’re happy to be here,” Jet said, grinning. “I tutored a lot of kids back home in Portland. I also started helping kids who couldn’t afford music lessons. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to establish what I wanted to before we left to make our album. I plan on starting it up again after our tour. I have to admit, I miss the kids. When my girlfriend, Amy, found your organization, I couldn’t wait to get down here.”

  “Before you leave, I’ll give you some information. Maybe we can help you expand your outreach program in Portland,” Amberlee said, leading us down a hallway with pictures of kids playing various musical instruments.

  “I would really appreciate that,” Jet answered.

  “As I mentioned, I do a lot with websites. I would gladly offer my services to you whenever you need it,” Amy offered with a big smile.

  “Yes, that would be fantastic. The kids have two more hours here before I close up. You can stay the rest of the time. When they’re done, we can discuss everything else,” Amberlee replied. “Are you ready?” she asked, her hand on a doorknob.

  “Of course,” Jet answered.

  Amberlee opened the door, and a dozen heads swiveled toward us. There were boys and girls of all different age ranges sitting on the ground, waiting for us. The hope and hero worship shining through their eyes almost had me tear up.

  “All right, you guys, best behavior. The JackholeS have come to spend some time with us today. Let’s give them a warm welcome and then let’s rock,” Amberlee said, making the group of misfits cheer.

  Jet went right in the middle, Amy by his side. “Hey, I was hoping we could jam with you,” he announced, grabbing a guitar and sitting down in the middle of the room.

  “You’re a bass player?” D asked, making his way toward a little boy, who must have been eleven at the most, holding a bass.

  “My granddad was a bass player. I just started,” he answered, holding the bass out to D.

  “That’s awesome. Why don’t you show me what you can do?” D plopped down next to him.

  “I want to show you what I can do next,” another kid said, sitting down next to them.

  “Where are my singers?” Kill called out, watching the interaction.

  “We sing,” a couple of kids rang out.

  Kill and I walked over to them. Van made his way toward the only set of drums in the room. Kids watched Van warily. His tattoos and piercings along with the sheer size of him were intimidating. When he sat at the drums, not one kid approached him.

  “No drummers? Really? That makes me sad.” Van pretended to pout, watching the kids.

  “I drum,” a tiny little girl said, standing on the opposite side of the room.

  “Well, what are you doing way over there? Come show me what you’ve got.” Van gave her a big smile.

  The little girl made her way over to him, and they started hitting the drums together. After that, Van had his own little set of drummers waiting to show him what they had.

  Even Gunther found a couple of kids who played the piano and joined in on the fun.

  It was amazing listening to the sheer talent. We ended up singing songs and playing whatever the kids knew or were practicing.

  “Fifteen minutes and it’s time to close up,” Amberlee called out, breaking into our little jam session.

  “There is no way it has been two hours,” I said, searching for a clock.

  Amberlee smiled at me. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

  “Can you guys do a song for us?” the little girl who was now Van’s protégé asked.

  “Sure, what song do you want us to do?” Kill asked as another little girl sat on his lap. She stared at him with adoration in her eyes. He booped her on the nose, making my heart beat rapidly at the sight.

  “The one where you sing with Faith. We saw it on U-Tuber,” a boy playing bass with D chimed in.

  “We can do that,” Jet said, already playing the melody.

  Van caught on, and soon D was in on it too. Kill shot me a wink before we began singing one of the first songs I’d learned with them. At the end, the kids were clapping and screaming.

  It was the best show we’d ever done. When the screaming and clapping died down, I looked up to see Lissa standing by the door, a smug look on her face. I nudged Kill with my shoulder, and his jaw clenched when he saw her.

  After promising the kids we would come back whenever we could, they shuffled out, all of them wearing huge smiles, matching our own.

  While helping Amberlee get the room back in order, Jet looked at us. “Told you to trust me,” he gloated.

  “That was the most fun I’ve had in a
long time. I’ll be the first to admit I was wrong in doubting you.” D clapped Jet on the back after picking up a discarded instrument.

  “I agree. I had so much fun with the kids. Thank you for setting this up, Jet,” I said, kissing him on the cheek.

  “Thank you, Jet,” Van and Kill cried out in unison, making Amberlee laugh.

  “Let’s go talk grown up stuff.” Amberlee clapped her hands, eyeing Lissa, who still hadn’t moved from her spot by the door.

  “I’m Lissa, the band’s rep. Sorry for dropping by unannounced. I’ll just show myself out. See you guys tomorrow,” Lissa said before disappearing through the door.

  “She’s not that bad.” Van stepped in before any of us could say a thing.

  I shut my mouth and watched Kill shake his head, keeping his mouth shut as well.

  We went into Amberlee’s office and talked about what we could do to help the program and how to start one back in Portland. Amy offered her advice on how to get the website more visible. We left the building hours later, exhausted and satisfied.

  We binged on greasy fast food while we lounged around the living room. “It really was a magical day,” I said, rubbing my belly.

  “I’m glad you guys enjoyed it. I wanted to do something like that when we were at home. We never really had time,” Jet answered.

  “It’s even more magical than you thought,” Amy said, frowning at her phone.

  “What do you mean?” I crawled over to see what she was talking about.

  “Lissa must have recorded us.” D frowned while the video of the song we’d sung played on U-Tuber.

  “It has over a million hits.” Van pointed out the number on the bottom of the screen.

  “Damn it. I really wanted to keep this on the down-low. I didn’t want it to be about publicity.” Jet frowned.

  “This is probably a good thing. The publicity will help us when we get back home and open up a center like the one Amberlee runs.” Van played the devil’s advocate.

  “I guess,” Jet replied, not sounding convinced.

  “I’m excited for what we can do when we get back home,” Kill said, yawning.

  “Yep, the JackholeS foundation, or whatever the hell we call it, is going to rock.” Van got up and tossed his garbage in the trash. “I’m out. See you guys tomorrow.”