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Bewilder (The Kaleidoscope Album Book 2)

Page 15

by Oakley, Bryce


  “Of course,” Sabrina said, slapping her leg as she continued laughing.

  “I’m so sorry, Domino,” Mom said, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

  “It’s no big deal, Mom. I’m just glad to be here,” Domino said, kissing Mom’s cheek.

  Martha growled from near the front hallway.

  Sabrina, wiping tears from her eyes from laughing too hard, walked to greet Meg and Zoey, scooping Martha into her arms. “Merry Christmas,” she said.

  “Oh my god, are you... holding Martha?” Meg said.

  “Isn’t that weird? Martha loves her,” Domino said, walking out of the kitchen after making sure her mother was appropriately calmed down.

  “I didn’t think Martha was capable of feelings other than rage,” Zoey said, blinking in surprise.

  Both women were giving Sabrina and Martha a wide berth.

  Zoey had a keyboard slung under her arm and Meg was holding her drum machine.

  “Wow, are we getting a private Christmas performance?” Dad asked, walking into the house from the back deck. Matt was right behind him.

  “Is this going to be like that time when you played Battle of the Bands and butchered my favorite Paul Simon song?” Matt teased.

  “Oh, even better,” Zoey said. “This time we’ll be butchering your favorite Christmas classics, too.”

  Sabrina tugged on Domino’s hand, gesturing for her to follow. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” She had a strange, solemn expression on her face.

  Domino stared down at Martha in her arms. “The dog has to come?”

  “I love Martha. She’s basically my favorite of your relatives,” Sabrina whispered with a grin.

  “I heard that,” Billie said from behind Domino.

  “Okay, sure, one second can’t hurt,” Domino said, taking Sabrina’s hand.

  Sabrina set Martha down, and the dog quickly ran under the Christmas tree. All of the ornaments on the tree shook, tinkling against one another.

  “No one touch the tree,” Meg remarked.

  “What’s up? Domino said as soon as they were down the hall and out of earshot.

  Sabrina stood on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Domino’s lips. “I love you,” she said with a mischievous grin.

  “I love you, too,” Domino said, confused by the need to pull her aside to say it. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. I just knew that this day was going to get even more hectic, and I wanted you to know that I’m grateful to be a part of your family,” Sabrina said, taking Domino’s hand in hers.

  Domino grinned. “Well, I’m glad that you’re a part of the Rush family,” she said.

  Sabrina bounced on her toes in excitement. “And I wanted to give you your present,” she said.

  Domino looked around the hallway. “Where is it?”

  Sabrina opened the door to Domino’s bedroom. There was a box pristinely wrapped sitting on the bed.

  “What is it?” Domino asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  The present was fairly large and square.

  She gingerly tore the wrapping paper — it looked too fancy to rip, and knowing Sabrina, it was some kind of imported special hand painted paper from a European country. Once the paper was off, she realized it was a plain brown box.

  “Open it,” Sabrina said with a giggle.

  Domino opened it warily, unsure of what would be inside. A puppy?

  A pink tuft of hair was all she could see.

  She reached in and pulled out a Cheer Bear — a retro version from the 80s and the exact type that she had before. She hugged it to her chest to see if it had the same special feel. It felt even better than she remembered.

  “It even has the hair tuft you used to put up your nose,” Sabrina said, standing beside her.

  Domino smiled down at Sabrina. “Did you have to sift through the landfill to find this?” She asked, pulling Sabrina into her arms.

  “No, just the internet,” Sabrina said, grinning.

  “Well, it’s perfect. Thank you,” Domino said earnestly. She kissed Sabrina, then stared down at her beloved bear.

  “Don’t show your mom. It’ll end up in the oven,” Sabrina whispered conspiratorially.

  Domino grinned, covering Sabrina's face in kisses. The gift she had gotten Sabrina was wrapped under the tree: A key to her house, along with an offer to move in together, and of course, a very large gift card to The Organizer Store in order to make Domino's home feel more like hers, too.

  Nerves swirled in her stomach at the idea that Sabrina might think it too cheesy, but there was no doubt that it wasn't one of the best decisions she'd ever made.

  A knock sounded on the door. "We've got to set up in there, y'all ready?" Billie called through the door.

  Domino squeezed Sabrina's hand in hers. "Yeah, we're ready," she called back, not taking her eyes off of Sabrina's.

  Thank you!

  Thank you so much for reading Midnight! Reviews mean everything to indie writers — you can review Midnight on Amazon here and Goodreads here !

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  Read on for a preview of Zoey’s love story: Midnight .

  Preview of Midnight

  Midnight - Prologue

  New Year's Eve

  Zoey

  Zoey stared in the mirror of the bathroom, fixing her hair. Her classic twist had started to come loose, and she held two bobby pins in her mouth as she finagled a third back into place.

  Someone knocked on the door. Her eyes flicked to the door in the reflection of the mirror.

  "Jus' a 'inute," Zoey called out, unable to open her mouth with the bobby pins in her teeth.

  The knocking continued. Couldn't they tell the door was locked, signaling someone was inside? Wasn't that common sense?

  She spit out the pins in frustration. "Fucking hold the fuck on," she yelled.

  The knocking stopped immediately.

  She sighed as she picked up the pins again to finish twisting them into place.

  Sure, she had made the guest list of Madonna's New Year's Eve bash, one of the most exclusive parties in LA, but she supposed they didn't include an intelligence screening test at the door for any other guests.

  She had forced herself to come to the party stag, mostly because both Billie and Domino were loved up, but even Mego had plans with a special someone. Zoey had always felt a bit uncomfortable going solo to social events, but with the increase in invites, she knew she couldn't convince her inner circle to go to every single one of them. Especially now that her wild child best friend, Domino, had settled down and was — to quote — wearing fuzzy slippers and drinking hot toddies at home.

  Even Micah, their manager, had plans with her husband.

  Ugh, couples.

  Zoey cringed, looking in the mirror again.

  When had all of her friends turned boring?

  The worst part? She didn't even despise any of their partners.

  Except Mego's, but only because Meg wouldn't tell her who she was seeing.

  And now Zoey was alone at Madonna's New Year's Eve party.

  Someone banged on the door again.

  She turned, her patience completely gone. She opened the door, standing in the doorway, towering over a very drunk girl who couldn't have been over 18. She was wearing a designer dress that fit strangely around her chest — had she seriously stuffed them with toilet paper? Was this girl even old enough to drive?

  "Is the building on fire?" Zoey barked.

  The girl rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just move, lady," she said, pushing in past Zoey.

  Zoey scoffed, moving into the hallway as the door slammed in her face.

  She walked back down the hall of the giant rental space. It was a ballroom decorated in blacks and reds and tulle, like some macabre ballet.

  The
music was loud with a bass that vibrated her ribs and drowned out all the thoughts in her head. She took a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter was holding and resisted the urge to take her phone out of her purse.

  No, she would be present. She would not just retreat to staring mindlessly at social media just because she was in a sour mood.

  She knew plenty of people at the party from other parties she’d been to, or from photo shoots or magazine interviews or other designer's shows. She knew almost everyone at the party, excluding the annoying brat who had banged on the door while she was in the bathroom.

  She wouldn't dwell and be an asshole simply because she was in a bad mood.

  She took a deep breath, tipping the glass and pouring the sweet liquid into her mouth.

  Then she placed her empty glass on a tray and grabbed one more full glass, just for good measure.

  She set her shoulders, walking into the crowd.

  She found a pair of photographers, Julian and Michael, that she had worked with on a shoot for French Vogue, and had spent a good part of the last hour talking about their travels through Russia.

  "Your band should tour Russia next year when the new album comes out!" Julian exclaimed. "It's to die for."

  "My band is full of outspoken lesbians. I don't think that's going to work out," she shouted over the music, trying not to roll her eyes.

  They stared at her with horrified, embarrassed expressions.

  "It's okay. Maybe by the time the new album comes out, the world will be a different place," she added, trying to smooth things over.

  Michael shook his head. "You mean, never?"

  Julian laughed. "Surely you're not still doing the band thing, darling. I thought you were an influencer now," he said. "Didn't—“

  Zoey excused herself to grab another drink.

  Cool party, Madonna.

  She stared into her glass, the thought replaying through her mind.

  She was at Madonna's New Year's Eve party. She had to get a grip. Five years ago, she'd have killed to be where she was.

  And yet...

  When Zoey had joined The Shrikes, she knew that it would change her life. She just didn't know how.

  Being the keyboard player for an indie rock band had opened doors that she would have never imagined — she was celebrated as a powerful woman of color, she was on magazine covers, she walked in the Balmain show in Milan... she had begun to live a life that she had never thought possible.

  The Shrikes hadn't put out an album in years... mainly because their lead songwriter and bassist, Domino, had a terrible case of writer's block. But a lot of that had changed recently — especially in the past month.

  Domino had hit a wall and finally opened up the songwriting process to include the other members of the group. Billie, the lead singer, had always been Domino's co-writer, but she had been busy with other projects for the past few months. Meg, the drummer, and Zoey, had finally begun adding their input to the creative process beyond their own instruments.

  It had only been a week or two, but the songs were coming freely and Zoey felt more creatively alive than ever. She loved writing, especially lyrically.

  The Shrikes would begin to record their album soon, and after that whirlwind, they'd begin promotions, then go on tour — possibly by late summer. If they finished recording the album by February, Micah, their agent, had even suggested that the album could drop as soon as July, depending on how quickly the tracks could be mastered.

  Zoey was on top of the world, had over a million Instagram followers, she knew plenty of the right people, and yet...

  She shouldn't take such an exciting time for granted, and yet...

  She was lonely as hell.

  She stood beside a champagne fountain, tucked in a darkened corner, staring up at the glistening light through the liquid.

  "Kind of excessive," someone said from beside her.

  She glanced sideways to see that it was Pia Marino, a talk show host and comedian that she had met briefly through other friends. Sabrina, a professional organizer friend, was about to do a guest segment on Pia's show the following week, and Vero De Luca, Billie's girlfriend, had come out on the show just a few months before.

  "I mean, it's not even drinkable," Pia said, crossing her arms as she watched the bubbles.

  "I'm not above dunking my head under it," Zoey said with a wink.

  "Need a boost?" Pia said, motioning as though she could hold Zoey's foot in her hands to give her leverage.

  Zoey grinned. "I'm a huge fan, by the way. I don't know if you remember me, but—"

  Pia shook her head. "Zoey McCarren. You're the keyboardist for my favorite band," she said.

  Zoey raised her eyebrows. "Your favorite band? High praise," she said.

  "Heart's Content got me through a tough spot," Pia said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

  Zoey looked her over. Pia was wearing a casual suit, with loose-fitting pants, an open vest over a button-up, and a blazer. She looked positively handsome. Zoey paused for one moment, wondering if it was weird to ask Pia what brand she was wearing.

  "Well, I'm glad we could help," Zoey said, smiling. "Though, I wouldn't take someone so funny for having tough spots."

  Pia raised an eyebrow. Her short hair was messy, but her features were naturally flawless. Besides the tiny hint of lines near the corners of her eyes, Zoey wouldn’t have been able to discern her age, which she knew was 40-something. Her dark eyes peeked out from dark rim glasses.

  "Sorry, that was..." Zoey shook her head, embarrassment burning her cheeks.

  "No, I understand. I'm funny and people think I'm all games," Pia said, shrugging. Judging by how she didn’t seem to tense up, Zoey guessed it was a common feeling.

  "We're about to start recording a new album," Zoey said, quickly changing the subject.

  "So I'd heard," Pia said, grinning. "Want to release the first single on my show first?"

  Zoey blinked. "That's really a question for my manager, but if it were up to me, the answer is absolutely yes," she said, a bit lost for words.

  "Well, until then, we'll just have to be mutual fans of each other," Pia said with a sly grin, reaching forward to give her arm a light touch.

  Something inside of Zoey's chest did a flip in excitement.

  Whoa, what was that? She wasn't a lesbian. She wasn't even bisexual. She was the resident straight girl in an all-lesbian band. It was kind of her schtick.

  But something about Pia was completely unnerving her. In a good way.

  Pia grabbed two drinks off of a tray and handed one to Zoey. "It'd be a shame to mess up your hair just for bubbles," she said.

  "My stylist would kill me," Zoey laughed, then realized how absurd that sounded.

  Pia didn't bat an eye at the remark though.

  "So, tell me something about the album that no one knows yet," Pia said lightly. "You know, to indulge my fangirl side."

  Zoey tilted her head, considering. "So far, I co-wrote four of the songs, and I completely wrote the lyrics for two of the songs," she bragged shamelessly. She held up a pair of crossed fingers. "Here's hoping they make it on the final album after we record them."

  Pia looked surprised. "I thought Domino and Billie Rush wrote all of your songs."

  "We're doing something different for this record," Zoey said, sipping her drink.

  "Are you any good?" Pia asked, and something in her expression made Zoey wonder what exactly she meant.

  "Well, I like to think so," Zoey said.

  It was surreal. Pia was flirting with her? Was Pia just a flirt? She racked her brain, trying to think of other stories of Pia Marino being a seductress.

  "Your turn," Zoey said, looking at her pointedly.

  "For?" Pia asked.

  "For some insider info. Tell me about a surprise upcoming guest," Zoey asked.

  "Obama," Pia answered quickly.

  Zoey rolled her eyes. "You two are good friends. That's no surprise. Tell me something else," s
he continued.

  "It may not be a surprise, but I'm in talks to interview a guest who I'm completely terrified of," Pia said, raising one brow. "It might not happen for a while, but..." She wiped her lower lip with her thumb.

  Zoey's mouth went completely dry, watching the innocent act turn so intimate and appealing in front of her. "Go on," she said, almost breathless.

  "Well, why don't you guess?" Pia said.

  Zoey grinned, surprised. "Okay," she said slowly, pressing her lips together as she thought. "Who could terrify the almighty Pia? “Are they in politics?" She asked.

  Pia shook her head.

  "Is it an actor?" Zoey asked.

  "Nope," Pia said, shaking her head again.

  "Some kind of child YouTube star?" Zoey lifted her shoulders, running out of categories.

  Pia shook her head.

  "I'm kind of at a loss here," Zoey said, furrowing her brow in confusion.

  Pia shrugged. "Guess you'll have to wait to see," she said.

  "That's not fair," Zoey joked. "I told you my secret."

  "Is that your secret?" Pia asked, her gaze flitting from Zoey's eyes to her mouth.

  It felt as though all of the air had sucked out of the room.

  Pia Marino was flirting with her.

  And she was totally enjoying every second of it.

  She smiled. "It's one of them," she said, raising her glass.

  Pia sipped from her own.

  The lights In the room suddenly began strobing. Madonna was on stage, yelling into a microphone. A giant clock on a screen showed ten seconds.

  "Ten!" Everyone around them yelled.

  "Then, let's have our own secret," Pia said.

  "Nine!"

  "Our own secret?" Zoey asked.

  "Eight!"

  They were yelling now over the crowd, leaning into one another to be heard.

  Zoey glanced around at the entire room, their glasses raised.

  "Seven!"

  "Can you keep a secret, Zoey?" Pia said, her body so close that Zoey could feel her leg pressed against her.

  In the crowded room next to a fifteen foot champagne fountain, they were virtually invisible.

 

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