“So how did you come to own the club?” I asked. I felt like lightening the mood after that weird conversation.
He went to open the door for me as he zipped his hoodie front, “Ten years ago I bought it back. Zeus had been running it between my absences.”
I followed him down the spiral stairs, “Bought it back?” I asked.
“Right. I forgot to mention that my great, great grandfather was the bootlegger.”
I stopped on the last step. “Um, you mean…it was in the family?”
“Yep.” He kept walking so I hurried to follow him through the middle floor. It’s not really that great. Cold looking and bare. “Some guy swindled my great grandfather out of it. I won it back in a poker game.”
“You won this place?”
“Yep for ten cents.”
I laughed, “You’re fucking with me?”
He slowed up and looked me up and down, “I could… but you wouldn’t be the same.”
My mouth hung open in awe of the innuendo. What? I shook my head but he just smiled.
“You said between absences. Do you travel?”
He brought me to another spiral staircase but it was way longer and went really far down. At the top of the steps, a neon light read the word ‘Rebel’ in blue and it lit up the dark and dank hall.
“I got put away a lot.”
I slowed up on the stairs. Oh, shit. That’s right. The friendly cabbie that brought us to the apartment warned me about Mr. Urban. He said the guy was bad news.
“Put away…?”
He stopped in the center of the staircase and turned to look up at me. He has the strangest feel about him. Like a tiger, maybe? That’s the only way I can explain it. Like a tiger, he’s beautiful, majestic looking and highly intelligent. You can see his mind working behind his eyes, sizing you up, taking notes, checking for weak spots. But like a tiger, he also feels dangerous and ready to pounce.
He took a step up the stairs toward me and I leaned back a little, “Ah, you want to ask me what I was put away for… don’t you, sweetheart?”
I swallowed with a dry throat. “I’m not trying to be nosy.”
“Two years for possession, three years for carjacking and one year for assault.” His lips curved in that queer smile, “Don’t worry, it wasn’t sexual.”
“Oh good, cause that was my main fear.” I returned sarcastically.
He turned and kept walking. What a seriously strange fella. I made it down to the last step and my feet glued to the floor. “Fuck,” I hissed. This place wasn’t just a club, it was a friggin ritz. An Underground Ritz.
To the right of the stairs was metal bar. It was surrounded on three sides by huge circular beige booths and couches. Above them was a giant crystal chandelier and multicolored spotlights. Above the bar and at equal level with the chandelier was a loft. A steal balcony with more tables and chairs and shimmering lamps.
Straight ahead of me was the main bar, a crazy long bar with at least seventy barstools lined up to perfection. Behind it along the wall was a massive fixture of bronze, working gears that opened into a huge clock.
Below it was a bunch of side stocked wooden barrels and on either side was a pyramid of shelving for all matter of liquors and drinks. The beers on tap were endless as well, glasses hung from low rafters.
Coming around the corner I saw the stage.
“This is where you’ll perform,” said Mr. Urban, setting his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “At night, the candles in the back will be lit up.
I blinked to see it right. It was high off the ground, with a concrete floor, and along the wall golden bulbs of light were strung vertically like a curtain of light. The candles along the floor in the back were all different sizes from floor length to tiny tea lights. This was a stage. This was where our career would boom. We’d be visible to the entire club, but there were speakers set up all over the joint, and the dancefloor was vast with graffiti scribbled upon it.
The main theme of verbiage painted onto the dance floor was, The Urban Legend. I looked back at Mr. Urban, “Is this you they’re talking about?”
“Yeah. I’ve lived through a lot. With a last name like Urban it just kinda stuck.”
I know this guy is trouble but I really can’t help but admire him. “Are you from the streets? Like, what kind of stuff-?”
“There’s a DJ, she comes in on most your off times,” he told me, cutting me off. “Her name is Bianca.”
“Bianca is a bitch,” Zeus said coming up from behind him. He came shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Urban and grinned at me. “She’s got snowflake syndrome.”
Mr. Urban looked between us, “She’s earned it. I hope your band can do the same.” He gestured to the stage. “You can rehearse whenever you want. There’s a side entrance, Zeus will show you. If you make it six months we’ll give one of you a key.”
I pulled at the long sleeves of my shirt since they fell over my knuckles. “Okie dokie,” I smiled, “This is so great. You won’t regret hiring us. We seriously shake the roof off most places. Adam is a genius.”
Zeus widened his stance, “Sing for us,” he suggested. “Little sampler of what’s to come.”
“I’m the-.” I tried to explain but Mr. Urban interrupted.
“She’s a backup. She writes their songs.” He reached out and felt a lock of my hair. It happened so fast I didn’t even react. “I look forward to hearing your songs. A woman that can boldly change her hair must have a lot to say in lyrics.”
Zeus made a humming noise to agree and slipped his hands in his back pockets, “And basing off the fact you choose unconventional colors, you must be pretty damn creative.”
Mr. Urban tucked my hair behind my ear and I felt the warmth of his touch travel deep into my bones.
“Only one rule,” he held up his pointer finger. Below the knuckle was an Asian symbol for ‘love’. “Don’t. Ever… steal from me.” He’d gone from a slight smile to a deadly look of deadly death.
Zeus stepped closer, “Tell your friends too, because I’ve seen the Boss bend men into pretzels over that shit.”
I laughed in nervousness and let my tongue slip, “Says the carjacker.” I laughed at my own joke but they looked about to lock me in their haunted cellar for bringing it up.
I swallowed, “No stealing. Got it.”
Chapter Four
ADAM
Trixie was right. This club is fantastic. It’s just the exposure we need and between this and writing jingles for advertisement on the side, I can say this is the first time I’ve made ends meet without stressing too hard.
I showed up at club Rebel Vision at around four to set up. We rehearsed the night Trix met up with the new boss but tonight is show time. I’m actually pumped but Mr. Urban sounds like an intimidator. Won’t work on me.
“Here’s the lineup,” Knox said as he came to my side. We stood on stage prepping the equipment when he handed me a sheet with all the songs. “So we alternate.” He told me. “These six are Mr. Urban’s pick and the rest are ours.”
I looked over the songs we spent most the evening going over. Trixie’s songs would be the main focus but between them, we would be playing other popular mainstream songs with our own flare. Alternative rock, and blues rock; that’s our thing. We can get anyone moving no matter what we play so I don’t mind giving this guy what he wants.
The hours flew by after that and then it was show time. I always feel a twinge of anxiousness when the start time comes. It’s not fear it’s more like a horse at the stall door of a race. I want out and I want the freedom that comes with doing what I do. I sing.
“Alright,” I told the crew just before going out. “Now listen, we’re a family alright? We get through all the bull shit together and we win the prizes together too. They might not know us well here, that’s okay. Let’s make them love us. Trix has set us up with a fast song to get them riled up. Pace yourself, we got this.”
“What about the new boss?” Blaze asked.
Trix laughed as Knox hugged her close, “Oh boy.” She whispered.
“What?” I asked.
Knox adjusted his cap, “Trix said this guy is a real Alpha.”
“So?” I gave him a look.
“So… you are too. This oughta be interesting.”
They all snickered but I rolled my eyes. “Just focus on the music. We aren’t here to impress him, we already did, we have the contract. ”
We heard Zeus get up on stage and listened in, “Here, it is here it is, here it is!” He announced. He sounds like a true ringleader. The crowd quieted down for him but applauded his presence, “I’m pretty damn sure…” he strides back and forth as he talks, “You all came down… into the… Urban Legend’s lair!!!” He stoked them by raising his voice on the name. “To be entertained?” he went quiet so we could hear all the whistles and hollers of approval. “You want… drinks?” we heard shouts from the bar. “You want… ya want, one night stands? Am I right?”
This won him a roar of agreement.
“Fuck,” Trix whispered, “How many people are out there?” We can see Zeus but not the audience.
I tugged her away from Knox and into my side, “Don’t worry about it.” I said pressing a kiss to her head.
Zeus went on, “What else you want from the night, my friends?” He listened as people started shouting ideas. “That’s right,” he pointed toward the crowd. “You came down here, in the Lair of the Legend!!! For one important thing! For something that makes drinking feel like breathing and makes dancing feel like sex!”
This earned him applause. The man gives speeches like a reverend in a church but his message is vastly different.
He chuckled into the mic I would sing in and nodded with a devilishly charming grin, “That’s right my people! You came for music!”
There was a chant forming in the club. I frowned like it would help me hear them.
“Um,” Trix said biting her lip.
Diego stepped forward, “Are they?”
Blaze laughed and slapped his hands together, “That’s right, baby!”
Well fuck. They were chanting the name of our band. Riders of Beat. Over and over. They knew us. I expected a fair few to remember the radio song we released, maybe an album or two, but no. They knew us.
“Riders of Beat!” Called Zeus.
We all gave each other a look then walked up. The welcome we received was… epic.
We all got into position.
Blaze was behind me to my left, all set at his drums, twirling the sticks between his fingers.
Knox set aside his accordion for this first song and picked up his acoustic guitar.
Diego was on the electric and was wandering to my right.
Trixie was beside me, with her tambourine in hand and her extraordinary pipes. She was every bit the star in her black polka dot top and red short, shorts worn over torn nylons. Her black boots were super beat down but they are her luck charms.
“Ready, Stud?” she asked over the noise.
I positioned my guitar and winked at her. “Turn it up!” I yelled into the mic. This started Blaze up. His skilled ear motivated a rolling drum rhythm that ignited the bar.
I led us into a high energy song that caused people to jump up from their seats or wander to the dance floor.
The bartenders catered to their guests but their movements synced with the beat. The people up on the loft went wild, dancing and shouting.
I have trouble standing still when I sing. So I let the music do what it wanted with my body. I heard my name get screamed a few times. Women freaking out all over.
Trix is keeping my voice strong with her own and once in a while, Diego sings a lyric into his mic which gives us a powerful lift.
The lights on the ceiling are flashing different colors and the chandelier that was already an asset to the club started to spin very slowly and set off a twinkle.
Knox is completely engulfed in the song, there’s no pulling him out of it now.
This is it! This is what we do. This is our life. Music. And these reactions are better than gold.
I’m so into the electric of the melody I let go to hit a long note. Trix predicted the unrehearsed pitch and held me strong. On coming down from the note my eyes flicked up to the loft again.
I almost faltered on the lyrics.
Holy Fuck.
Chance.
He’s here. At the club. Watching me. Up on the loft, I am met with the same enchanting blue eyes from the alley days ago. His expression is unreadable but he won’t move his eyes.
I forced myself to focus and glanced at Trix. She’s too in it to notice me.
I looked back up at Chance and found him resting his forearms on the railing. He was content to make me sweat this I think.
I made myself center on a girl on the dancefloor that was giving me groupie eyes. She turned up the sexy in her dancing but before she could really cut loose I was flicking my eyes up to Chance.
When the song ended we were applauded and I spun on my heels to face away from the crowd. The band is just getting started and their faces are full of glee, but my mind is buzzing and my heart is going a thousand miles an hour.
“You okay?” Diego asked.
I put on a fake smile and nodded before returning to my spot at the mic. I unbuttoned the top of my shirt some before looking up to the loft. There he was, in the same spot observing me. Why is he fucking with my head?
We went into the next song and somewhere in the middle I looked and he was gone. I refuse to explore why I feel disappointed to not see him. Why I feel relieved he’s gone but excited to know he might be floating around.
We did two more songs that had everyone head over heels for the group before breaking. Upon getting off stage I hid. I buried myself in work like checking the equipment. I’m not dealing with this guy again. He does weird things to me.
“Trix?” I called. “Trix, I need my other guitar.”
No reply.
The guys were just chilling so I got up and walked around the corner. “Trix!” I heard her laugh and when I came around I saw the back of her. “Hey, I need my other guitar, where did you pack it?”
She turned to face me but my eyes slipped behind her to where Chance stood. They’d been talking. I straightened.
“So this is your Adam?” Chance asked her but watched me. “The one you get flushed talking about?”
She bit her lip and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yeah, this is him. Adam, this is Mr. Urban.”
Double Fuck!
I didn’t smile I just gave a nod and jerked my head toward the back, “Trix, my guitar.”
“Right, on it!” She looked a little shook by how gruff I was.
Chance settled his hand on her lower back halting her, “Is she your girlfriend, or your pet?”
His face was too hard to read, I couldn’t tell if he was joking or being snide and the touching on Trix’s body sent a rocket off in my chest, “Either way,” I took her hand and led her away from him, “Don’t feel her up.”
“Adam!” Trix turned around and jerked my collar.
Chance only arched a brow. “Didn’t see a ring on it.” He looked her over then settled on me.
I took a step forward but Trix pushed my chest, “He’s teasing, Adam, calm the fuck down!”
“Just find my guitar…please.” I didn’t sound as polite as that, please. She gave me a sound of annoyance before leaving and I was stuck facing Chance.
He has a staring thing he does and it makes me feel things, “I don’t really care if you’re my boss or not. Stay away from Trix.”
“Who are you more worried about?” He crossed his arms, pulling the suit jacket tight around his shoulders and biceps.
“Her.” I squared with him, “Look, no offense but you look like the type to have no morals.”
“True.” He took in the club, “I don’t. Never have. She’s a pretty girl.”
&n
bsp; “Keep your eyes in your head.”
He cracked a smile and scratched his jaw, “Maybe I’m jealous…”
“Well, what’s the old saying?” I smirked, “I saw her first.”
He nodded before passing me, but as he went he said, “Maybe it’s her I’m jealous of.”
I lost track of time as I stood there piecing that one together. Is Chance gay? I never stopped to really consider that. From the outside, no one could tell but then again, most couldn’t tell about me either.
Still, his eyes felt like they were communicating something and his lines felt flirtatious.
“Adam!” Blaze yelled, “Hello? Stage. Today.” He reminded. I hurried his way and let the Boss’ eyes burn into my memory even if I didn’t want them too.
The following week we played at Rebel Vision with very few encounters with our boss. Thank God because he was on my mind a lot so when I saw him in person it would make me agitated. He annoys me on a deep level. Especially when he does this one thing.
He deliberately gives me eye contact then ignores me while he talks to other people. It’s to piss me off, I know it is and he deliberately keeps no space between himself and Trix. He touches her whenever he can and has even been so bold as to do it then look at me.
“Jenzy, he’s beautiful,” I heard Trixie say from the loft in our apartment. I looked up from my book and pushed my reading glasses up my nose.
“How old is he now?” She asked.
I could hear her cousin Jenzy’s voice coming from Trix’s laptop over skype. “Twenty weeks,” she said. “And look, baby teeth!”
Trix went wild over that and I smiled to myself.
“When are you guys having babies?” Asked Jenzy. I laid my open book over my chest and stopped to listen.
Trix shifted in the desk chair, “I don’t know…eventually.”
“You love babies,” Jenzy told her, “and they love you. Not to mention you and Adam have been together for like…years.”
The Significant Other (The Relationship Quo Series Book 4) Page 5