The Hysterics

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  I was in love.

  “Encore! Encore!”

  The roaring fans and I were in agreement that the show should go on.

  But, like all good things, they freaking ended. Rodney said goodnight and apologized to the protesting fans, explaining that they had to make room for the next band to come on. As the guys started to break down, Dane mouthed to me to wait one second while holding his finger up and flashing that killer smile.

  Oh yeah. Weak knees.

  He then turned to Maverick and pointed at me, mouthing something else. The next thing I knew, Maverick had jumped off the stage and was right next to me. He introduced himself by yelling into my ear and then helped me up onto the stage to join the band. I was so embarrassed because my dress was almost exposing my underwear the first time I was meeting Dane’s band members, but they didn’t seem to notice.

  Dane grabbed my hand as I got to my feet and shouted, “You look freaking awesome, Fae! Thanks for showing up.”

  I felt my cheeks burn red and yelled back, “This place is amazing! Thanks for inviting me.”

  He motioned toward backstage. “Want a drink?”

  I nodded and followed him away from the still screaming fans. Once inside the band’s dressing room—which was about the size of a closet—I really got nervous. Dane introduced me to everyone and they all seemed so nice. I was shocked. Most of the musicians I knew back home and from tour who were at almost-star-level like The Hysterics were jerks.

  Tossing me a beer, Maverick queried, “So, Fae, right?”

  I nodded.

  “How’d you meet our boy here?” He clapped Dane on the shoulder.

  Before I could go into the story, Dane noticed my nervousness and answered for me. “She’s my new boss.” Dane winked at me and I relaxed a little. “Well, kind of. I’m the new assistant editor at Raging Underground. I’ve only been in Chicago for a little while now.” Talking about myself was unsettling. I wasn’t used to being Fae Dunham yet, so I took a long swig of my beer and started to rave about how impressed I was with them, hoping I could find some courage in the bottom of the bottle and stop blushing. “When Dane told me that his band had a gig and he wanted me to come check it out, I had no idea it would be of this caliber. Seriously, you guys killed it out there.”

  “You’re sweet,” Rodney pitched over my way while lightly picking at his Baby Taylor. “Dane, nice job bringing a chick around that doesn’t act like a bitch or a gushing groupie.”

  Through a nervous chuckle, Dane leaned over and said into my ear, “Don’t mind him. Wanna go check out the next group? I heard they are pretty awesome.”

  “Sure, that’d be great.”

  Grabbing my hand, Dane led me out of the room as I waved goodbye to the others. They were all polite and told me to come back again. As we walked down the hall, a few girls eyed me with jealousy written all over their faces, some of them even cooing their hellos to Dane as sensually as possible. To my surprise, his grip on my hand got tighter and he pulled me into his side, ignoring the floozies. When we made our way to the bar, I ordered us a round of water. Dane’s eyes lit up with a twinge of curiosity as we drank our nonalcoholic beverages. I needed to keep my head about me and not let booze start making decisions for me. Staying sober was a safer course than risking betraying my inner Jiminy Cricket.

  “Thanks for coming out. I didn’t think you would make it.” Dane’s voice was straining to be louder than the heavy metal on stage and the fans’ excited shrills.

  “I really missed this type of stuff. I loved your kit, by the way!” My eyes met his and I realized I was getting dangerously close to blowing part of my cover.

  No one can know I am a drummer. I had to remind myself of this sometimes. It was like being a fish and trying to convince people I was a mermaid—it just didn’t make sense.

  I cursed under my breath; thankfully, my mumbles got swallowed up by the crowded room.

  “Oh yeah,” Dane chuckled. “She’s pretty great. You been around a lot of bands before?”

  His mouth curled into an extremely sexy half smile as I fumbled for words, his gray eyes piercing mine.

  Fuck, he’s so damn hot.

  “I dabbled in a little bit of music journalism in college. Payton wouldn’t hire just anyone, would he?”

  Dane shook his head, tightly pulling me into him. He pressed my back up against his chest, moving to the music. We danced right next to the bar for the rest of the band’s set. The other members of The Hysterics had joined us and ordered a few more drinks while we enjoyed the fast-paced rhythm and near screaming of the lead singer.

  Eventually, Dane and I found ourselves alone again at the beginning of another band’s second song. The rest of his bandmates had trickled off into the shadows with some wannabe groupies. I was relieved when the song started calming down into a ballad and Dane took me into his strong, tattooed arms again. We slow danced and his lips brushed my ear ever so softly, sending chills up my spine.

  He breathed gently into my neck, “Do you want to get out of here?”

  I playfully shook my head as he kissed my neck once. I was enjoying myself, but this was enough playtime outside my comfort zone for one night.

  I pulled away from him, just enough to look into his smoldering steel eyes. “You should ask me out on a real date before you think I am going to ‘get out of here with you,’ Romeo,” I said, making air quotes and grinning.

  He nodded, smiled. After grabbing my trench coat, he escorted me out of the packed club. My inner Jiminy was screaming at me to stop playing with fire again, but I was a moth drawn to a flaming hot drummer.

  We waited on the curb for a taxi to drive by and he hailed one for me. Before releasing my hand, he rested his cheek on mine. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow. How about drinks after with the guys? They seemed to want you to come around again soon.”

  I nodded, giggling a little, feeling his stubble graze my face. “That’s still not a date,” I teased, whispering in his ear.

  He tightened his grip around my waist, getting his lips within half an inch of mine. “I know. How about dinner after we meet up with the guys?”

  Without waiting for my answer, he pressed his lips to mine, and I was stunned. I gently pushed Dane away, making sure to keep sweet eye contact with him.

  “It’s a date then.” I smirked, a little breathless from our kiss. “See you at work, drummer boy.”

  With that, I was in the cab, speeding away to a sleepless night, too excited about what the Windy City was going to have in store for me after all.

  Dane

  Even though the lights were nearly off, I could feel the energy of the deafening horde growing with anticipation. I reached down to find my fresh pair of sticks, firmly grasping them in my right hand. The smooth, black paint on the wood was sleek and intoxicating as I twirled them in my fingers.

  Fuck yeah. This is going to be a good night.

  Sweat was already starting to form on my brow as the adrenaline coursed through my veins. My breath started to quicken and my heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. Even though I had been on stage with these guys every weekend for years, each gig sent an overwhelming feeling rushing over me, reminding me why I truly loved what I did.

  The lights started to brighten and the spotlight lit up Rodney’s face. All of the booze-fueled fans screeched as Rodney started his usual introduction.

  “Ladies, ladies, calm down. We’re The Hysterics, and we’re here for you. Please be so kind as to welcome my awesome bandmates. We have Dane on the drums.”

  I heard my cue and let a stick twirl in the light above my head before stomping out the bass rhythm for the remainder of the band to be introduced. The crowd erupted and we dove right into the newest tune I’d written.

  Rodney’s voice was smooth and lustful, unknowing of the truth that burned bright in the words that dripped from his lips like honey on a hot summer’s day. My mind flashed to the tattoo on my shoulder: two small fireflies, one protec
ting the other. My heart stopped and my breath caught as she crossed my mind and everything around me stopped for a brief moment.

  It's a dull kind of pain that just sits in my heart and weighs me down

  And you're the only one who can fix it

  It burns and erupts at the worst times

  Stinging old wounds that have already been licked clean

  Right when headway is made, the darkness crashes again

  Closing in on my starlight

  Little flicks of magic extinguished one by one

  The firefly's lifespan gets tested over and over

  Thankfully, she is inked into existence for all eternity

  Once the set was over, I started to pack up the equipment and Mav helped me get Fae up on the stage. She seemed pretty happy with the show and comfortable with the guys, which surprised them all. Maybe it was that she was new to the city, but most girls from around here got a little unnecessarily star struck around us. Fae was calm while complimenting us on our set. She used biz words like they were common, but I shrugged them off until I was standing next to her at the bar.

  She called my drum set a “kit”, and that was it.

  I had to shout over the crowd’s roars. “Oh yeah!” I couldn’t help but laugh at her compliment of the DW. “She’s pretty great. You been around a lot of bands before?”

  Right then the world stopped around me. I was standing in front of Fallon Dunbar, the former drummer of Regicide Assisted, a band that had just broken up because rumor had it their drummer had died from an overdose of coke. She was a legend in the underground circuit, but she had flown in under my radar. I decided to not let Fae—Fallon – know I’d figured out her alter ego and went along with the sheer surprise of standing in the presence of an awesome chick.

  I tested my luck and was completely shot down. I figured she had met too many jackass musicians on the road and decided to not become another one. We danced and listened to my friend’s band play a few songs until I finally was able to get her alone on the street. I pressed my hand on the small of her back and brought her in for one hell of a kiss. Her lips were so soft and she tasted like sheer fuckable magic, not to mention how incredible her lip rings felt gliding over my bottom lip.

  As I watched her speed away in the taxi, I had a newfound excitement to quickly get through work that next day. Since the band met up for drinks after work pretty much every day, I figured it would be a nice icebreaker into a date. I wasn’t really the dating type, but if Miss Fallon Dunbar wanted to play all goody two-shoes, I figured I should play along.

  I made my way back over to where Colt and Rodney were standing, trying to get the attention of a tall tattooed guy behind the bar.

  Colt leaned close to my ear. “Where’d the chick go? She was hot.”

  I smiled and shook my head, laughing. “She went home. Playing hard to get, I guess. She’s gonna hang out with us tomorrow.”

  Colt smiled mischievously and I knew the idea of Fae-Fallon—whatever I was supposed to think of her as—naked was crossing his mind, which pissed me off.

  “Dude, I just made out with her!” I yelled loud enough for the entire club to hear if they wanted, but Colt and Rodney were the only ones who seemed to let the greatness register.

  Rodney punched my shoulder. “Fuck yeah, man.” Then he took a shot of vodka and wandered off with a tall blonde who was wearing enough makeup for an entire brothel.

  Two giggling blonde girls walked up to Colt and me as the bartender finally took my order. I waved the girls in Colt’s direction and he slunk into the shadows with both clinging onto each of his arms.

  “So, where’s your lady friend? Fae?” Maverick was standing next to me, a mixed drink wrapped in a white napkin in his hand.

  He was more than a bandmate or even a friend. He was my brother, or at least the closest thing I had to family. He knew something was up with me, I could see it in his face.

  “She hopped in a cab and headed home. Work early in the morning, ya know.”

  He nodded. “Ain’t that a bitch?”

  “I gotta tell you something, promise not to say anything?”

  He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  I leaned in and loudly said, “She’s not just any chick. She’s fucking Fallon Dunbar!”

  I let it sink in and watched as the words clicked. His eyes grew about ten times bigger as he punched my shoulder.

  “Fuck, dude!”

  “Yeah, tell me about it!” I chugged the rest of my beer, slamming the empty glass onto the bar top.

  “All I can say is, don’t fuck that one up!”

  I could always count on Mav to be Captain Obvious. I chuckled, “Yeah, man. No shit! Don’t tell the guys. Or anyone.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret—well, her secret—is safe with me.”

  Chapter four

  The Meeting

  Dane

  Usually after a gig, I pass the hell out right after a shower. Tonight, there was no way that was going to happen. I was consumed with replaying kissing Fallon over and over. It was a short kiss, no tongue, just simple, quick, and perfect. I felt like a freaking preteen girl giggling in a corner after having made out with her crush for the first time.

  I finally fell asleep around four in the morning, and my alarm screamed at six thirty.

  Ugh. Fuck, it’s early.

  I desperately wanted to roll over and keep sleeping, but Fallon had called the entire staff in for a meeting and there was no fucking way I was going to be late for that. I shaved, brewed coffee, put on a button-down and tie, and headed out the door twenty minutes early.

  With my oversized travel mug in hand, I walked into the office and an all-too familiar voice cooed behind me, “What’s the special occasion, hot stuff?”

  Whitney was standing way too close for comfort. She was the only chick I’d ever brought home from work. Huge mistake. She had a banging body: tight ass, long, blonde hair, a huge mouth she knew how to work well. But, she was a leech. All she did was gossip and talk shit. Not my scene. I’d only kept her around for a little while because she’d been a no-strings-attached fuck. Now she wanted strings, and I wanted nothing to do with her.

  “Trying to act the part, I guess.” I dismissed her and continued to walk toward the conference room.

  There was no way my dick was going to go near her again, not after having kissed Fallon. One kiss, that’s all it had taken. Those few seconds with her had been worth more than all the hours I’d spent with that shallow slut.

  I could feel my heart skip when I heard Fallon’s sweet voice coming from around the corner. Then I quickly kicked myself for how sappy I had become in the last twenty-four hours.

  Dude, get a grip. She’s just a chick.

  Sitting back in my chair in the meeting room, I smiled as all my fellow writers slowly trickled in, tired, coffee in hand. I could see the confusion and frustration on their faces. Every once in a while, we had a meeting, but never at eight in the morning. Most of us were musicians or insane music fanatics, keeping vampire-like schedules and hating the term ‘morning’. It was part of the reason why the online chronicle idea was an awesome job choice—the hours were appealing.

  Ever since Fallon Dunbar had become our assistant editor, structure had been creeping in, denying our resistance with a devil's laugh. Payton had called the meeting knowing full well how unpopular it was going to be with the staff, but he was trying to make big changes in the chronicle and Fallon was right smack dab in the center of it all. And I was enamored.

  Fallon was hot in every way possible. She was strong, an amazingly talented writer, and covered in the hottest tattoos I had ever seen on a chick. The best part was how much she was a mystery to me. She was one of the most talented underground drummers I have ever heard of; she was supposed to be dead, but here she was, showing up in my life like an archangel, her wings still a little singed from the wreckage of her past. I figured no one else had put the connection together about our new editor
's true identity, and I knew that's what Fallon wanted.

  Fallon beat most of the staff into the room. A lot of them were lingering in the hall or shuffling papers on their desks before the meeting was supposed to start. Even with her sleepy eyes, Fallon was stunning in her tight, black dress pants, her thick-framed glasses, and a flowing teal top, her hair thrown up. I couldn’t help but stare.

  She draped her suit jacket over the back of a chair before gliding over to me, half smiling as she glanced at her watch. "We have, like, fifteen minutes before we have to start." She pulled a chair close to mine and straddled it backwards. "How're you doing, Dane?"

  Her lips were a succulent red that my body ached to taste again. I stuttered for words, but I kept them at a level whisper, playing off my lustful attraction as best as I could.

  “I’ll be better once we have that date you made me promise to take you on.” I forced my lips to curl into a smile, trying not to blush, being careful to not let my eyes slide down to her perfect tits, which were playing peekaboo with her almost see-through top.

  She ran her fingers through her hair, tucking a few stragglers into her messy bun and biting her lip into a half smile. “Well, then, we will just…” She trailed off as Payton strode into the room.

  Fallon tossed a playful pout over at me without finishing her sentence. She slowly started to rise, probably noticing that the last two members of our writing staff had scrambled through the door. I looked at her, pretending to sulk a little, and then nodded, mouthing “We’ll talk later” at her with a wink.

  I tried to pay attention while Fallon strolled through how well our fans were responding to our articles and how much more emotion we could bleed from our passion for the music we were writing about. All of it was interesting, but nothing could pull my mind from cracking her mystery.

  Why is she so secretive? Why doesn’t she want anyone to know who she is, how talented she is?