Blur (Changing Colors Book 2)

by Alcorn, N. A.

  “Well, then don’t be such a c-u-n-t,” Ember retorts, holding up a middle finger behind Teddy’s head.

  “I want to spell something! Let me play! Let me play!” Teddy chimes in. “Don’t be such a t-m-s-y-l.”

  We’re all laughing at his innocent enthusiasm.

  “Good one, buddy,” Ember says, running her fingers through his curls.

  “Well, if I’m in LA on Christmas morning, count me in. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

  “Hell yes!” Teddy shouts.

  “Teddy! Language,” Ember admonishes.

  I fight the urge to laugh. I don’t know what it is about a kid tossing around curse words, but damn, it’s hilarious.

  “Sorry, mom,” he apologizes. His head tilts to the side. “Dylan, can you sing like my Auntie?”

  “Well…I can sing, but my voice isn’t near as pretty as hers.”

  Teddy grins. “Her voice is the prettiest. The very, very best voice in the whole wide world.”

  “You are so right,” I agree.

  “I know! I’m always right! Wahoooooo!” He fists pumps and starts to sit up, but his mom gently pushes him back down. “No, don’t get all hyped up and start bouncing around like a maniac. We called Brooke because it’s bedtime.”

  Teddy groans. “But I wanted to show Dylan my Hulk Smash moves.”

  “Next time, buddy,” Ember adds. “It’s too late and anyways, Brooke and Dylan are probably getting ready for bed too.”

  “Do they sleep in the same bed together?” Teddy asks.

  Ember and Brooke’s eyes go wide, completely taken off guard by his innocuous question. I wish, buddy. I fucking wish. That’s what I want to say, but I stop myself before making the situation worse. “No, little dude. I was just in Brooke’s room working on some music. I get to sleep in one of the cool bunks on the tour bus.”

  Teddy’s eyes light up. “Like bunk beds?”

  I nod, smiling. “Exactly like bunk beds.”

  “I want a bunk bed so bad…” he pauses, and leans towards the screen. He’s so close that his hands cupping his mouth are the only things in view. “But my mom keeps saying no.” He attempts a whisper, but it’s more of a quiet yell. “Tell mom I need a bunk bed, Auntie Brooke.” Eventually he leans back, staring at Brooke with wide, pleading eyes as he nods his head.

  “You got it,” she whispers, winking at him.

  A giant grin spreads across his face.

  “Okay, you two, no more secrets,” Ember teases.

  Teddy laughs a secret giggle.

  “We’ve got to get bed, buddy, so go ahead and ask Brooke for a song.”

  He looks at Brooke, hands clutched together. “Will you sing me a song? Please, Auntie Brooke? Pretty, pretty please?”

  Brooke nods. “Name the song, buddy.”

  “Paint It Black!” he encourages.

  Both Brooke and Ember laugh, shaking their heads. “No way, little man. Mick Jagger gets you too hyper,” his mom refutes.

  “What about Kashmir? Yes! Play some Zeppelin!”

  That has me chuckling. Figures Brooke’s nephew would be asking for bedtime lullabies to the sounds of The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin.

  An amused expression fills her features. “How about a little Ella Fitzgerald?”

  “The dream song?”

  She nods. “Yep, Dream a Little Dream of Me.”

  “Yes, I love that song, Auntie Brookie.” Teddy’s grin is as wide as the Pacific.

  “Okay, give me a sec.” Brooke sets the laptop in the middle of the bed and pulls her guitar out of the case. She sits beside me again, legs crossed and guitar resting in her lap. Her fingers strum a few chords. “You know the rules, buddy. The song can’t start until you’re cozy in bed.”

  Ember helps Teddy get under the covers, tucking him in, and kissing his forehead.

  He smiles at his mom, and then looks back at Brooke. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Brooke starts to strum the opening riff, eyes falling closed as her lips release the lyrics. The song, all by itself, is beautiful, a wonderful tune that wraps you up and holds you close. But Brooke singing her own rendition of this song is beyond beauty. There are no words that could describe the silkiness of her voice, the raspy yet gentle vibrato she etches into each note.

  Power lies beneath that soft and sweet voice, but Brooke keeps it toned down, for Teddy’s bedtime lullaby. God, she’s angelic. Sugar and honey, soothing and soulful, her heart is engraved into each word.

  The tender tone accomplishes its intent. I want to burrow into this bed and hibernate while she blankets me with her voice. It reminds me of a seaside night underneath a star filled sky. A white Christmas package wrapped up in a red, satin bow.

  It’s so beautiful—she’s so beautiful—it hurts.

  My mind wanders to unchartered territories, thinking of Brooke as a mother, singing her own child to sleep. This woman and her giant heart, the way she takes care of everyone around her, will be the best mother to the luckiest golden-eyed baby in the world. I want so badly to have that kind of future with Brooke. I can’t breathe. Can’t think about anything else as I watch her gorgeous lips move in subtle movements.

  I want everything with Brooke.

  Music, love, marriage, fights, brilliant make-up sex, kids, the proverbial white-picket fence, I want every goddamn thing with this woman. If only I could find a way to get her to open her eyes and see she’s supposed to have that with me.

  The Interview: Careless Cockups and their flaming orange path to fame

  ShortLyrics.com

  Careless Cockups are well on their way to the path of success, and we were lucky enough to enjoy a behind the scenes interview while the band did a promotional shoot for their pre-release tour.

  Currently going outside the norm, they are putting themselves out there before the album has yet to drop. There are a lot of naysayers, taunting and downright shaking their heads at this “marketing ploy”, but the ticket sales say otherwise. They’ll play in front of sold-out crowds at every US and Europe stop on their short tour.

  And, they’ve released a few songs on their VEVO channel that have music fans across the globe begging for more.

  If anything, Careless Cockups are doing us all a favor by not making us wait until February to hear tracks from their debut album.

  “Right, let’s get properly leathered up,” says Dylan Bissette, reaching for his leather jacket as his band mates chuckle behind him. “Flying V formation, everyone.” They attempt their best silly faces for the shoot, inspired by two iconic album covers: Ramones by The Ramones and Definitely Maybe by Oasis.

  Four bandmates. Four lads. Four all-around good guys who are as close knit as they come. They’ve roared onto the scene and are ready to change the course of music. Playing together since college, this band has the potential for longevity in this business.

  They’re smart, cunning even, and have plans that far outreach the two-album deal they signed with Wallace & Wright Records. But over the course of an hour with Dylan, Jesse, Alex, and Zach, they’ve joked, laughed, and even contemplated what they’d do with pyrotechnics at a show.

  You’ve got the pre-release tour and a debut album on the way. Anything we should anticipate during the shows?

  Dylan: Obviously, we’ll play some tracks from the album, but we’ve got some other things up our sleeves too.

  Jesse: In London, we’re kind of known for switching things up in the heat of the moment. We did a show a year or so ago at The Underworld and played a cover of The Smiths, I Know It’s Over. I guess it must have been pretty great, fans still request it.

  Dylan: I think we did more Jeff Buckley covering The Smiths kind of cover, but yeah, it was kind of brilliant.

  Jesse: [Laughs] So true. We did a cover of a cover.

  Has there been backlash about your decision in doing the show, Mad Sounds?

  Jesse: If there is, we’re not listening. We’re enjoying filming the show, letting people into our lives and
our journey towards producing our first record. It’s been a bit of a roller coaster ride, that’s for bloody sure.

  So you guys are on the road now. How are you staving off tour-bus boredom?

  Zach: We mostly rag on Jesse to pass the time.

  Jesse: Piss off!

  Zach: [Laughs] We’re still working on finishing the album, so there’s quite a few jam sessions commencing on the bus.

  Alex: And we’re working our way through a few Netflix series and box sets. Prison Break, The Sopranos, you name it, and we’re probably watching it.

  Dylan: Well, besides American Horror Story and The Walking Dead. One of our producers is a bit of a chickenshite when it comes to the horror genre.

  One of your producers? Are you talking about Brooke Sawyer?

  Jesse: [laughs] Yeah, Brooke truly is a chickenshite when it comes to horror. She couldn’t sit through the first episode of The Walking Dead without smacking us over the heads with pillows and hiding underneath a blanket.

  Speaking of Brooke Sawyer, the world is extremely curious about the type of relationship she has with a particular member of this band… Any comments related to those accusations, Dylan?

  Dylan: People will always want to make something out of nothing. That’s just the way the world works, especially in Hollywood. We’ve been working sixteen-hour days for the past few months. I’ve spent a lot of time with Brooke, and she’s become a very good friend of mine. She’s a brilliant producer and even helped write music for one of the songs on our album. The girl is a bit of a musical genius.

  Jesse: It’s hard not to be friends with Brooke. She’s become one of us over the last few months.

  Alex: She kind of won us over the second day in the studio when she brought a pan of brownies. That was weeks ago, and I’m still thinking about how good they were!

  Dylan: [looking at Alex] Operation get Brooke to make us more brownies?

  Alex: Let the begging and persuading commence.

  Zach: [laughs] Count me in.

  Did you know there are Facebook, Tumblr, Instagram, and Twitter accounts dedicated to the mysterious relationship between Dylan and Brooke? What do you think of that, Dylan?

  Dylan: That’s a joke, right?

  Jesse: [Laughs] No, mate, it’s true. I’ve seen them. Hell, I follow a few of them.

  Dylan: Seriously?

  Jesse: As a heart attack.

  Dylan: Bloody hell… I think it’s insane. We’re friends. End of story.

  Not many modern bands make it far without collapsing. Do you think the fact you’re childhood friends will help you stay together?

  Dylan: We hung around with each other a long time before we were a band, and I’m sure that helps bypass a lot of those pitfalls.

  Is there any cheesy pop you secretly quite enjoy?

  Jesse: If only Brooke were here to school us on the Queen of Pop…

  Dylan: [Laughs] She’d definitely want us to say Beyoncé.

  Alex: And Britney Spears and Taylor Swift.

  Zach: Yeah, but I’m digging Ellie Goulding a bit these days. I’m a fan of her song, I Need Your Love.

  Alex: [Laughs] Of course you are, mate. I’m sure it has everything to do with her music and nothing to do with the fact that you want to shag her.

  Zach: Well, there’s that too… [Laughs]

  Have you ever been drunk on stage?

  Jesse: I’ve maybe had three drunk gigs in my life. And I’ve found if I drink more than a couple of pints, I can’t play. I get paranoid about dropping my sticks — I can’t play fast, and I’m far too tense.

  Zach: There’s that magic amount. If you go on with nothing you’ll be a bit nervous, but if you have too much, you’ll be crap and end up looking like a twat.

  So what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen in the crowd?

  Jesse: Concerts can always use more tits being flashed.

  Alex: [Shoves Jesse and laughs] Of course you’d say that. The question was about weird shite, not an opening for you to encourage female fans to take off their tops.

  Jesse: I wouldn’t be mad about beautiful women showing us their appreciation through the art of shirt and bra removals.

  Zach: [Laughs] Next question. Believe me, you don’t want him to go any further with this.

  Have you made any extravagant purchases?

  Dylan: Not really, no. We haven’t had time.

  Alex: Jesse bought a juicer. I think that was his big purchase.

  Dylan: [Laughs] That’s right. I forgot about that.

  Jesse: Don’t mock the hand that feeds you smoothies in the morning.

  I’d lay money on the fact that this time next year; you’ll be playing giant arenas. Have you thought about that? Any big dreams for when you play in front of a crowd that big? Lights show? Pyrotechnics?

  Dylan: Pyrotechnics? Hmmm… That’s tempting…

  Jesse: Yeah, but we’d need to go over the top with it. Act like something’s gone wrong, but we’re all in on it. You know like when you go to Universal Studios and they do that bit on the Jaws ride where they act like the boat stops working. We’d need to do it like that, like a stunt. The light falls on me…

  Dylan: [Laughs] Sets your drum kit on fire…

  Jesse: Exactly! The drum kit’s on fire, and everyone’s screaming and crying, thinking something has gone horribly wrong, and then I come back on and do a solo performance of Blue Daze, playing acoustic drums on pots and pans or some shite like that.

  Alex: [laughs] Not pots and pans. It’d need to be bongos. Nothing trumps bongos.

  Dylan

  Louisville is our second stop on the tour. After we finished up our show at Headliners, Jesse had the brilliant idea of getting everyone together for a late dinner. It’s safe to say barhopping and debauchery are on the agenda. I convinced Brooke to come along, as well as most of the crew from the tour. Even our driver Bob has joined us. The man is cool as hell, and I’m happy to see him get a night off. We aren’t due to leave Louisville until late tomorrow morning, and it’s a godsend we’ll get to sleep in hotel beds rather than cramped bunks on the tour bus.

  Jesse invited the chicks from Second Hand Girls, the all-female band that joined our tour after signing with Wallace & Wright a few weeks ago. He said he just wanted to be a good tour host, but I know better. My brother has his sights set on the Second Hand Girls drummer, Josie, and in true Jesse Bissette style, he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

  Yeah, he’s a wanker that way, but for some reason, unbeknownst to me, women fall for his charm. Always. Jesse is never short on opportunities, if you catch my drift.

  We got lucky with a local restaurant that more than accommodated us. Jesse only had to make one call, and Jack Fry’s stayed open past their normal ten o’clock close time, setting up a private room for our large group. It’s a bit of an upscale joint, probably too classy for my crew, but I’m relaxed, relishing in the first moment I’ve had all day to sit around and chatter with my band. No paparazzi, zero expectations, and being the only people in the restaurant, give us the freedom to be our normal, obnoxious selves. Of course, Dean and Thomas are here, hovering over us with their bloody cameras, but they don’t really count. I’ve made a habit of ignoring their presence.

  Zach and I have spent the first part of dinner razzing Jesse about the interview he did with The Morning Show. We’ve watched that video at least fifteen times, picking out the idiotic things he said to get the female reporter to laugh. It’s not a surprise her frequent giggles and batting eyelashes took up more time than the actual interview. The woman was putty in his hands. And I can’t wait for the response he’ll get from the public once it airs. No one can miss the flirtatious vibe flowing between Jesse and Alison Cross, The Morning Show’s prettiest reporter.

  I dig into my delicious meal, occasionally joining in on the dinner conversation between bites. Brooke sits across from me, and I’m finding myself unable to stop from watching her enjoy her cheeseburger. I love the fact that we’re dining
at an upscale restaurant with a menu highlighting filet mignon and lobster, and Brooke orders a cheeseburger and chips.

  It’s absurd the things I notice about Brooke. The little things. All of these awesome, tiny details that are sprinkled throughout her personality.

  Things like her laugh. It’s distinctive and hearty, seeming to start from her toes. And she never holds it back. When Brooke laughs, everyone else around her can’t help but to join in. She has the most infectious laugh in the history of laughs.

  Or the way her nose wiggles when she’s deep in thought. I doubt Brooke realizes she has this adorable wiggling habit, and I love that her nose and I have our own little secret.

  I can guarantee the question “Have you seen my sunglasses?” will come out of her mouth at least once a day. The answer never changes—they’re always sitting on her head.

  Then there’s the way Brooke throws her phone into that giant bag she calls a purse, and then three minutes later won’t be able to find it when it rings. I never understand why women carry around so much random shite, but with Brooke, I find it amusing she can hand me anything from a rubber band to scotch tape to a goddamn ketchup packet. It’s like she secretly plots for the moment when she might need to MacGyver us out of a hostage situation in the middle of a bank robbery.

  Christ, I even think her inability to be on time is cute. She sets her alarm for ten minutes earlier than the time she needs to get up, yet she still manages to hit snooze a million times. Oversleeping is a given for her.

  My phone vibrates on the table with a new text message notification from Brooke.

  ‘You’re cooler than Mr. Rogers, which might not seem like a big deal, but that dude would put his shoes on just to chill in his own house. That’s crazy cool.’

  I internally laugh. Odd compliments have become a secret game of ours. And I don’t miss the irony of it being our secret game. Hell, Secrets with Brooke could be our theme song.

  ‘You’re kind of awkward. But in a cute way.

  Like an elevator ride, but with puppies.’

  I watch her from across the table. I don’t miss the hint of a smirk peeking from her mouth as she reads my message. Her fingers start typing their response, and that cute nose of hers graces me with a little wiggle when she pauses to think. She’s striving to one-up me.