For once during my many mornings spent bleary eyed while pool side with Logan, we both had separate guitars instead of passing mine back and forth between us. The additional guitar had been donated for Logan’s use by none other than the absent Harrison in the equation. It was an offering that Logan had been quite willing to accept – let’s face it, the guitar that Cam lent him was much nicer than my ancient chipped acoustic – but I was slightly suspicious of the whole deal.
It gave Cam license to come around during our lessons now that he knew about them, not that he ever stayed long. I could see the sidelong glances that were spared to his guitar and the almost pained flicker that would flash through them.
It was plain as day that Cam didn’t want his brother playing his guitar, but here we were.
Yeah, I was definitely suspicious of those motives.
Thankfully he never lingered too long, though. I noticed the differences immediately in Logan when his brother was around, all the sudden he’d stiffen up as he played – the exact opposite that I needed him to do – and then he’d mess up, hit a chord to hard or miss a change. He was out of his element when Cam was watching, but when it was just the two of us he’d relax again.
Really, the differences were like night and day. Although if he wanted to play a song with his brother, he was going to have to move past the nerves.
I could understand them, though. Guitar was Cam’s thing, it was obvious, he melted into the guitar when he played it like that’s where he was meant to be. Logan knew it was different with him. It was the same as when Cam sang opposed to Logan. These just weren’t the talents they’d been born with, and it was harder to do it in front of one another than anyone else in the planet. Maybe it was that competiveness that they had with one another, even a fear of ridicule, but I would hazard a guess to say it was because their opinions mattered more to one another than anyone else in the world.
Not that they were likely to admit that in the next thousand years.
I knew the truth, probably even better than they did.
However having the second guitar made life a lot easier for me, and it was easier to keep more of a distance between Logan and I this way. At least this way I could stay in my chair while he was in his, though that didn’t seem to occur to Logan, because he was always filling in the space the moment he could.
And it was not good for a girl who had her hormones already raging out of control from one brother when the equally attractive older brother was pressing against her. No, it was not fun. In fact it felt like I might just spontaneously combust at any moment between the two of them.
It wasn’t fair, but that wasn’t something I was likely to admit in the next thousand years, either.
“You’re almost done recording, aren’t you?” asked Logan abruptly.
Leaning against the guitar with a hand pushed into my hair to keep me upright, I nodded slowly, wondering why he’d stopped playing just to ask that question. I thought everyone knew about it already. “I just need to lay the vocals down for my last song today, Cash is setting it all up for the vocals in the kitchen. We have two days left here and then we’re going to mix in LA, studios are all booked and waiting for us.”
Logan nodded, staring at me in that way he and his brother perfected, but it was just so intense and searching I had to avert my eyes. “We’re just mixing here,” said he. I couldn’t help but think he was hedging to some sort of a point.
However I was too tired to be bothered by it, and just raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, Cam told me you guys still have at least three weeks booked here before you’re finished.”
He still didn’t look away, leaning between the pool side chairs that now stayed where we pulled them together to play. I was beginning to wonder if he even felt the need to blink. It was starting to get unnerving with him peering at me like that, making my mouth dry enough that I needed to gulp.
When were these brothers ever going to learn that staring wasn’t polite?
Especially when they did it this way, like they couldn’t be bothered to look at anything else on the planet.
“Can you teach me that song?” he questioned eventually, paying attention to my every movement and flicker of emotion.
Almost immediately I sat up straight, hands flashing at the ready to start the song off slowly, show him every chord I’d yanked from inside myself to make the song. I wasn’t one for showing people that weren’t in my band my songs – I was a teensy bit possessive of them – but who would have thought a member of The Bends would want to learn a song of mine? Oh, if only the press could get this story. They might die of shock.
Yet before I could begin, I shook my head with a laugh. “No, I’ve only got time to teach you one more song, and it’s going to be Don’t Look Back Into The Sun,” I told him surely. He deserved to learn how to play his one song. “Watch me play it, alright? We don’t have much more time today.”
As ordered, Logan watched with the same devotion I was starting to expect from not only him, but his brother as well.
And before I knew it, the time had come when Cash was expecting me down in the studio to start recording the vocals. I didn’t feel that willing to leave already, though, I would have gladly stayed there for days longer, stuck in the little world Logan and I went into when I was teaching him. Nothing much touched us when we were there.
What I didn’t want was to get further on Cash’s bad side right before we went to LA, especially because it was going to be just the two of us there. It was a studio we’d used to mix before, I liked hearing my music in different positions and mixing in a different studio than I recorded in. Hopefully this wordless argument that we seemed to be having for far too long would end once all ties were cut off with The Bends.
I didn’t exactly want to think about what was going to happen when I left this studio, some friendships survived these changes and some simply didn’t. It happened to everyone. Who knew if I’d ever see Sarah again after this? And I’d begun to adore her over my time spent here. Maybe these nights and mornings with the Harrison brothers would fade into the back of my mind, lying there forgotten until we ran into each other at some award show and then after a night of all sorts of hedonism, they’d once again become only memories until the next time we met, years later. Those definitely weren’t comforting thoughts, because these people that surrounded me for the moment felt like everything.
The problem was I had to keep reminding myself that it might feel like this now, but that didn’t mean it was going to last. I had to convince myself that it always felt this way.
So I was taking the only path that someone that came from the Turner gene pool could take. I’d suck every last second of enjoyment out of my time with these people, and when I walked away I wouldn’t look back.
That simple.
I even got practice as I left Logan behind in the foyer where he was examining all the equipment my producer had set up while I went to find the man in question.
My studio, as it turned out, was quite empty. Even more than usual when I was the only person in there since Cash had used the equipment that littered the room to make the our little sound booth in tiny tiled kitchen. There were lines of dirt on the shag carpet, a telling sign to how long that gear had been sitting in the sound room.
Instead of making the search for my producer into an epic, I dragged one of the chairs up to the edge of the enormous sound board I’d gotten rather attached to over my stay. After I’d settled down with my guitar case propped carefully against the board beside me, I ripped a blank sheet of paper from my journal while I chewed on the edge of my pen.
Logan learning his song was so cleanly imprinted into my mind at the moment, I couldn’t shove it away. And I couldn’t help but think tomorrow would be my only morning left to teach him that song. What if it wasn’t enough?
With that thought, I jotted down in my sharp hand Don’t Look Back Into The Sun at the top of the page before writing out the music below it with the corresponding lyrics.
If I didn’t manage to get him the whole song, I could at least give this to him. It wasn’t really that much of a gesture, so I was comfortable with it. After all, he could find the same thing within seconds from a search on his phone, but would those be written out by hand by none other than the infamous Jude Turner? Not on his life.
Man, if I was going to start referring to myself in the third person maybe I really did have a messiah complex. One day management was going to get my psychiatric help, and it may be for my obsessive narcissism, alcoholism or drug use. It could be any of the above, really.
However I wasn’t thinking of any of my favourite vices soon enough as I wrote on the song in careful script, I could only wonder what Logan would do when given the song. It may not have been my song to give and it definitely wasn’t his to take either, but at the same time if it was the song, didn’t that make it a part of him? I could only wish that people felt my music was a part of them, and if I could, I’d give them all the one song they needed or wanted.
I never got to play my one song. Somewhere Over The Rainbow didn’t exactly fit the rock star mould, did it? What it would be like for Logan to play this song – and he would play it with his brother if I had to threaten to pull off Cam’s fingernails – I couldn’t even imagine.
My thoughts raised that hideous green beast that liked to hide away in the pit of my gut, but I continued writing if only for the thought of that all too honest smile Logan wore when there was no one else around to see it.
If green was the colour of jealousy, it was also the one of serenity. It was mindboggling how often those two were entwined. I suppose humans were built for confliction.
I’d almost finished when the door behind me squealed its way open.
“Hey, we’re all ready out there,” said Cash from behind me.
Nodding absently, I still didn’t bother to look about to my friend? What could I say? Once I set my mind on something, I get so one tracked that I’m nothing short of insufferable – which is so fucking different from my normal personality. “Okay,” I mumbled, “I’ll be done in about a minute.”
“Please don’t tell me you wrote another song that you want to squeak onto the album, we’re cutting it close as is.”
Opposed to his rather school teacher words, Cash sounded rather fascinated as he edged forwards. So I just smirked down at my sheet of paper. “Oh, how I wish,” I replied, “But this song isn’t mine at all, sweetheart.”
Peering over my shoulder, Cash read the title aloud slowly, “Don’t Look Back into the Sun.”
There was a long pause where I could only assume he was continuing to read over my shoulder, checking if I was correct with everything I wrote – that school teacher thing was getting pretty severe, wasn’t it? “I watched you play this perfectly the other day,” he reminded me, the question apparent in what he didn’t say.”
“It’s a gift,” I explained grandly as I finished the song – and rather neatly considering my usual writing.
After a moment’s hesitation left staring at the empty section at the bottom of the page, I jotted down my only original words on the entire sheet. Frankly Mr Shankly, you two could do it credit. I didn’t bother signing my name, what was there was plenty. And, honestly, it was as heartfelt as someone like me got.
Folding the sheet of paper, I quickly shoved it into my guitar case – keeping it safe until tomorrow’s lesson. Feeling quite satisfied, I spun about to look at my producer.
Only to be met with a flat expression.
“Jesus christ,” I groaned instantly, “Are we going to do this again?”
“Do what?” asked Cash evenly; however that judgemental scrutiny that littered his face didn’t as much as flicker.
Knowing exactly where this was going, it had been happening silently for weeks now, I rubbed a hand over my face wearily. “You being all disapproving and telling me that they’re no good for me. But what you forget is that they’re not for me. Don’t tell me that they’re bad news, because guess what? So am I.”
“I know that, Jude,” he said.
That shut me up pretty damn quick, shooting him a sharp glower.
“I love you,” he assured me, catching that look easily, “But you can be just as bad as they are. And they’re my friends too. You know what their relationship is like by now; do you really think they need you in the middle of that? Do you need that? All three of you together is like mutually assured destruction.”
Although I swallowed, noticing my throat was now the texture of sandpaper, I still managed to snap back, “You’re acting like we’ve been having threesomes every night, Cash. We’re all just friends, isn’t that what you wanted? And isn’t that good for them?”
Unless I was very much mistaken, Cash’s expression had now bypassed into the realm of nothing short of sad when he looked at me. It was something I knew I could understand, but I’d been refusing to think about. That was a technique I’d learnt from dear old dad, just don’t deal with anything difficult.
“I can see the way they’ve been looking at you.” He paused as if for effect. And what an effect it had when he locked onto my gaze, adding, “So have you.”
My throat now felt like I’d swallowed a garbage bag of broken glass, I only gulped again. “So what?” I answered, having know what he was getting at for a long time now, but ignored it as a person in the Turner gene pool must. “I’ll be gone in two days, any feelings or crushes aren’t going to matter soon.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at them too,” Cash informed me.
“I look at them the same as anyone else,” I corrected him instantly, giving a careless shrug. What else could I do? What else could I say? By now I knew that there was more than guttural hormones of the most primal nature going on – it was different with them. Yet I wasn’t going to admit that. What would be the point? The friendships already had an expiration date, and I wasn’t the type to even think of a relationship.
After a moment waiting for me to make an admission that would never come, Cash sighed. “I just wish you weren’t going to get hurt.”
“I won’t,” I assured him, “I never do.”
The look he sent me was one of utmost disbelief as he slouched backwards, running a hand up his arm. “You always do,” he corrected me with enough sureness in his voice I felt my stomach drop; “You just pretend that you don’t. You’re really good at it, Jude, but you got to remember I knew you before Josh. You weren’t always like this.”
At the mention of Josh after so long, my eyes flashed dangerously, but Cash wasn’t scared of that.
Why would he be? Like he’d said, he’d known me before the entire debacle.
“Well, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? If it wasn’t for him I’d still think I had feelings,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood, at least slightly.
Yet Cash wasn’t having any of that, he just continued to watch me so closely as if I was about to walk the plank.
This time it was my turn to sigh as I pushed up from the chair. “I get it, alright?” I guaranteed. “I like them more than I should and they have some little crushes going on. I’m not oblivious. Now can we just do the fucking song already?”
And with my typical attitude, I shoved past him, stalking out to our makeshift studio.
Maybe it was the aftermaths of the conversation, but I could feel myself being dragged down as I set myself up in the tiny tiled kitchen. Yet I supposed it was only fitting for a song I’d written about a broken soul who was just growing older and more alone with every passing day. It was a vicious combination.
When I began to sing that melancholy almost dripped from my voice as I held the microphone in front of me as if I was performing before a crowd, instead of just Cash and Sarah.
It didn’t help that only moments into the song, my voice had dragged both brothers from their studios to watch me, standing just feet behind Cash at the small board with Sarah. Of course, I only had thoughts for them, gaze shifting between.
And they were looking at me in just the way Cash had warned me about minutes before.
“I’ll find the sun on my own. But the morning’s so far away,” I sang, a slight crack of emotion breaking the note, but I kept going. Averting my gaze from them, I focused down on my normal microphone I held between my palms. Taking a hand away, I pressed the bulky headphones harshly against my ears, hoping that the acoustic guitar would drown out my thoughts. “And it’s your fault; I haven’t a home without you. The resent stays so high, When strangers are compromise.”
I wasn’t lucky enough for distraction from them. Yet I supposed that was what caused the tortured vocals, so who was I to complain?
Swallowing I turned away from the small group, singing into the wall instead on a particularly difficult note as I ran a hand through my hair.
Take every memory possible, I reminded myself, and then walk away. It could be that easy, it would be. It always was for me. And within a week I’d forget about the regret that was already beginning to curdle in the pit of my gut when I was faced with something new and exciting. That was just the personality I had. Cash was wrong. I never got hurt. He should know that by now.
Knowing my vocals were done, I pulled off the headphones, dragging my hair into all sorts of directions. With the headphones dangling down from my fingers that held the chord, I turned back around to my little audience, noting with a start that Simon had joined without my noticing.
No one dared make a sound in case it ruined the take, waiting for my reverb guitar track to finish as well.
Glancing in the direction of the brothers, I found they’d never bothered to look away if only for proper decency. It would have been lunacy for me to think otherwise, though. They liked to stare to the point of making the object of their attention uncomfortable.
However I found that my eyes had taken to studying Cam’s expression, all the way from the brow furrowed in a frown to the arms folded across his chest, making his forearms bulge beneath the shirt he’d pushed up to his elbows. I had most care for the narrowed look he had set on me, yet at the same time didn’t looked particularly focused. He was lost in his own thoughts.
Oh jeez, I wanted to groan but kept my lips shut if only for the quality of the song as a thought occurred to me. He was looking far too much into this, wasn’t he? It was just like him. After all those things I’d told him under the influence of alcohol and – well – him, he was going to star analyzing my songs. Even I didn’t think about them too much, I’d go crazy if I started thinking about every meaning behind the words I wrote. They came to me and that’s where it ended, I wasn’t going to go all psychoanalysts on them.
After at all, it made it so much easier that way to tell the press that they meant nothing.
Sending me a thumb up, Cash successfully got my attention away from Cam, just in time for Logan to fix his brother with a look.
“What did I do wrong?” I questioned.
Might as well get straight to the point, right? I could guess a few of the things, my voice hit a couple notes a bit rough and there was too much movement on my end since it was a low tech way of recording as is. I was already creating quite the list in my head without any help on his part.
However Cash through me into a loop when he pursed his lips for a moment, and then answered, “Nothing.”
I just blinked.
Noticing my reaction to his unworldly reply, Cash grinned at me. “Seriously, I like that one right there. Technically there were issues, but you wanted it to sound like you were right beside the listener, and that’s the one you want. It’s live and raw and real. What more do you want?”
Pressing my lips together, I made quite the face as I gave a shrug. “Perfection?” I suggested innocently.
But if there was one true thing in the world, it was that Jude Turner trusted Cash Collins.
And there I go with the third person again.
With the help of not only the dear troublesome two and Sarah, but Simon as well, we wheeled the equipment back into the studio. Thankfully with all the heavy lifting that I was more than content to watch them deal with and the added bonus of Simon and Sarah, it meant I had very little interaction with the brothers besides the merest of passing glances before Mick came in to drag them out.
Alone with my producer, this time he knew better than to go into emotional territory again. Because, let’s face it, I could only handle one heart to heart a month, let alone two in one day. I’d melt like the Wicked Witch of the West, just without the water.
All the sudden it felt rather empty in the studio.
Besides the one last extremely rough mix of this song, we had nothing left to do and the rest of the day along with tomorrow in here. Even Cash gave off the feeling that he wasn’t quite ready to leave this place, because after not too long in the studio – spent doing a whole lot of nothing – it was decided we’d go out to lunch.
It wasn’t like either of us to procrastinate on something to do with music, but here we were, going against the most basic of our instincts. For him I knew it was slightly more complicated, since when we finished mixing in LA, he’d be heading back home to Philadelphia to be with his family. Yet even he wasn’t brimming with excitement at leaving to just go to a different studio, he and Simon had been friends for so long and he’d taken a rather paternal edge to Sarah, not to mention it wasn’t often he got to see The Bends.
At least he had somewhere to go home to after all this was done.
Like my song had spelt out, I didn’t have one, never had. I thought of nowhere as home. So if that old saying ‘Home Is Where The Heart Is’ was to be believed, what could be said about mine? I didn’t even consider where I’d grown up with my mother as a home, because it had never really felt like.
To be honest, I couldn’t even say how long I’d be staying in my current apartment – and I’d got that place right before heading to France for months on end. I’d bought it simply for the proximity to my band, not to mention Donavon who was going to be my best friend once he hit a more reasonable age, but I was already getting restless there.
Maybe I just wasn’t the sort to settle down to anything. Not an apartment, a specific type of music nor a person.
With all the thoughts running through my head, I satisfied myself with eating some severely greasy pizza with one of my oldest friends. It wasn’t exactly a solution, but it tasted fucking brilliant so I wasn’t going to complain.
As with every argument we’d ever had, Cash and I didn’t talk about the aftermath, no we just slipped through from silent resentment into the same volume of forgiveness. And it never took long until we were back to normal, although I could still hear his words running through my head. I would have liked to push them away, but just as the thoughts that I was meant to keep moving on by myself for the rest of my life, it wasn’t that simple to put them out of my mind.
Instead I leant my head against Cash’s shoulder as we walked down the road – as quietly as ever.
Coming out here to record was supposed to be so simple. A simple side project to keep me from going insane without music during Red Riot’s hiatus. It was just supposed to be Cash and I with friends dropping in to help; we’d work on the music and have little interaction with anyone else. Being out here in the middle of nowhere was supposed to bring my alcohol intake down, not send it shooting skyward.
At the end of recording the plan had always been for me to be brimming with excitement to get back to LA. I was supposed to want to get back into city life and culture after detoxing for so long.
It definitely got more complicated that anyone could have guessed.
So he just pressed a comforting kiss to the top of my head, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
That silence that always worked so well between Cash and I was ruined the moment we walked through the front door of Valley Sound, because the shouting echoed straight through the building to us. Immediately I straightened, noticing that Sarah was standing up and leaning around her desk to attempt to get a peek down the hall to where the sound was coming from. I couldn’t blame her for that horrified expression; because I was sure I mirrored it down to a bloody tee.
I was half expecting Logan and Cam to come bashing through the door, rolling around as they punched one another.
However it only took a moment of listening to hear the laughter before they really did come bashing through the door. It was in a much different way than had been expected, though, and Sarah remained absolutely terrified.
I had to blink to take in the sight, but after a moment I found the smile blooming on my face. Logan was on Cam’s back, arms wrapped around his neck tightly as Cam lugged him through the doorway – taking care to smack his brother into the doorframe lightly. The one thing I saw the most clearly was that they were both laughing at whatever had edged them to this point. It was only on those rare moments when they were caught in that exhilarated expression at the same moment that it was obvious they had the same smile, right down to the way their eyes crinkled.
They looked like kids again, just being brothers hanging out together instead of all the issues in between. That would have been a brilliant photo for the press. Not one journalist would know what to do when present with a picture like that.
Leaning down, Logan said something into Cam’s ear that I couldn’t understand through the chattering of both Rob and Graham who’d followed out behind with all feet on the ground, plus the accents didn’t help. It was just a confusing mess for my small town Michigan born ears. Whatever he’d said sent Cam into a fit of laughter to the point where he couldn’t hold onto his older brother anymore, letting Logan tumble to the ground in a surprise of awkward limbs before slamming back into the wall behind them.
I saw the danger coming before anyone else could, and that ever ready presence that Logan held for violence was proved when he shoved his brother in the back.
Although I wanted to roll my eyes at their trivialness, it was made clear that if someone didn’t cut it off quickly, we might really have that full blown fist fight I’d been worried about. Because Cam’s face cut off from the previously rather cheerful expression to something much darker as he stumbled forwards a step, turning around to shoot his brother a nasty glare.
If there had been more time I would have marvelled about how quickly their moods could shift, instead I stepped away from Cash.
While Rob and Graham were still prattling on between them and Mick was wandering carelessly over to visit with Cash – they had a producer bond going on – I was the stupid one that hastily closed the distance between the brothers. Maybe they simply didn’t care or they were so used to them fighting they no longer notice – both options were quite sad, to be honest.
Right as Cam was taking a threatening step towards his brother, I, with all my stupidity, stepped between them. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I’d never been one to think about my actions. With a hand pressed against Logan’s chest in the middle of his Stone Roses’ tee, I shoved him back lightly to which he was altogether unresisting, eyes widening at my intervention as his back knocked against the wall again. After fixing him with a warning look, I spun around to Cam, shooting him the very same expression as I put both hands on his firm stomach, pushing him back two steps as I went with him, feeling his body warmth through the fabric of his shirt.
I was playing peacemaker between these two more often than was comfortable. This wasn’t exactly the role I’d been born into – though I did have all that practice from being a little kid caught between my parents. I was usually the one stirring up this kind of shit just for the fun of it, not being the responsible one.
What was becoming of me?
At the very least, it was the greatest of distractions for them, and I watched as all that ready to go animosity dropped from Cam’s face just as it had with Logan moments before.
Noticing that my hands had lingered far too long, I met his amused gaze with a sharp look of my own before dropping them. It was just in time for Logan to step up behind me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and the other around my neck, pulling me slightly backwards so my back knocked into his chest, the entire length of our bodies pressed together. My whole body missed a beat there.
“We were looking for you!” exclaimed Logan, back to that altogether jolly vibe that had littered the studio only moments before. It really was astounding how quickly these two moved between fighting, whether it was physically or with words. It was like even they didn’t notice any longer.
Their poor mother must have been glad to see the back of them, knowing what she was releasing onto the world.
“We’re going out,” added Cam, not missing a second. Yet I did catch the way his eyes had flashed up to his brother for the briefest of looks before they settled back down on me. At least there was no more fighting, because I had quite literally sandwiched myself between the two.
Now this would be a picture that would make the world wide press have a heart attack – forget the happy looking Harrison, it happened once in a while. Now me being held in an extremely tight backwards hug with Logan Harrison, while Cameron stood not even a half an arm’s length in front? That was unprecedented. There was no photograph in the world that existed like this.
Jokingly I made a chocking sound, croaking out as I tugged lightly on Logan’s forearm until he loosened it enough so both arms were wrapped around the tops of my shoulders. However he still didn’t shift an inch back, making me blaringly aware of just how close we were pressed together at the moment.
“Pretty lame, aren’t you?” I observed with my candid behaviour, “It’s so early.”
“We’ve got a drive,” Cam said.
And as if they were in the mood to finish each other’s sentences, Logan continued, “And we’re going to have a right piss up when we get there.”
Finally I took the time to roll my eyes – something I’d wanted to do since I’d walked back into their presence; funny how that worked. “Good for you guys,” I replied with a fair amount of sarcasm littering my voice.
With the sides of his mouth quirking upwards, Cam informed me, “You’re coming with us.”
Since I’d never been one who appreciated being told what to do, my eyebrows shot up as I eyed him challengingly. “Oh really?” I chortled, “Actually I believe I’m staying here and working on my song.”
“You only have one more full day,” complained Logan, “You can work on it tomorrow.”
“Last night out,” Cam reminded me, trying to give me all the more incentive. And with him looking at me like that, who could blame me for the pang in my gut? Who could blame me for wanted one more night out with them? “You’ve got the song recorded already, darling, just work on it tomorrow. You have nowt to do but come with us.”
This was the most unfair thing I’d ever been subjected to in my life. I didn’t even have a response ready on the tip of my tongue, I was Jude Turner. My reputation was having a witty or bitchy response to everything. Yet with both Harrison brothers ganging up on me, here I was feeling like a muted child.
And it hurt my campaign that the only thing I wanted to do was agree with everything they were saying.
Apparently Cash knew me better than I’d given him credit for earlier, because even from his distance at the door, he could sense the longing in my look as I stared across to Cam. Even they couldn’t tell, still wrapped up in trying to convince me. Yet my producer heaved a great sigh, alerted us all to the fact it had gone silent in the foyer except for the three of us. Maybe they had noticed the fight that had been about to break.
With all three of our heads swivelling about to Cash in time, he specifically met my eyes with a sad little smile. “I’ll do the rough mix for the song,” he offered, “You can listen to it tomorrow and see if you like it.”
Just looking at him I could tell he thought me going out with them was a stupid idea, and I found myself pursing my lips, torn between the two options I was getting given by him. Maybe because he was always trying to keep me somewhat on the straight and narrow when we were making an album or maybe it just had to do with the brothers – and I already knew how he felt about that. Yet here he was making offers to help me go out for the night and get into all those situations that I got in easily on my own, let alone with the help of The Bends. Talk about being my best friend.
However it wasn’t really the hardest decision to make was it? We still had tomorrow if I didn’t like his mix – and through our whole career together there were few I didn’t like. And hadn’t I been telling myself I might as well savour every moment with these boys that I could before I walked out? Live in the moment and all that malarkey.
“You two are going to kill me, aren’t you?” I groaned, throwing a look over my shoulder to the broadly grinning Logan whose face was closer than I’d anticipated. Shooting the gaze in Cam’s direction, I found that identical expression looking back at me. My surrender was sound tracked by the break out of hollering from Rob and Graham.
Gripping Logan by the forearms, I began towing us towards the door.
It was only once we’d shoved through the door that I shrugged his grip off, figuring any longer than that and someone might start getting a little, ah, excited. For once he agreeable stepped away, though he came up beside me, making sure his arm was pressed against my side. Almost immediately Cam followed the action up to my opposite side, making it apparent I was going to be right in the middle of them for a while.
“You’re going to want to get a jacket,” Logan advised, making my eyebrows rise.
However I didn’t bother question the matter as we headed straight to the motel – rather they did, giving me no choice in the matter as I was squished between them. Every time I’d gone somewhere for the night with Cam, I always had a brilliant time even if I did always regret my actions the next morning. It only seemed fitting that the last night out with them would be somewhat of a surprise since almost everything that had passed between us up to this moment had been the same.
With the anticipation of the night building, I abandoned every member of The Bends at the body of the stairs as I raced up to my room to get that jacket in question. Not giving a thought to change out of my ripped leggings, scuffed up boots and baggy Nirvana tank even if I might look slightly homeless or a heroin addict, I snagged my leather jacket from where it was slung messily on the corner of my bed.
It was only then when I hear the familiar roar of the engines that had been plaguing this town since The Bends had made their prodigal arrival.
Instead of the way I’d scoffed when I first realized they’d brought the bikes over from England with them, a crooked grin came over me. Shrugging the jacket over my shoulders, I darted back out of the room.
A peek over the railing revealed two of those motorcycles waiting idly for me near the stairs while a plain looking car stood behind them, engines shutting off.
Oh, always the polite English boys, I thought sarcastically.
Clanging my way down the industrial stairs, I hit the pavement only to have a helmet thrown at me for what felt like the thousandth time, though this time I managed to catch it without looking like an uncoordinated loon. It did almost smash into my face, though. Without a peep of an argument out of me – it was so out of character – I slipped the helmet over my head before I really took the time to look in front of me.
First I looked through the window of the car, only to find that it was Graham and Rob sitting in there quite patiently, probably blasting the air-conditioning and music. That meant that the two of the bikes could only be the brothers and though they both had their helmets on already, obscuring a view to their faces, it wasn’t hard to tell which was which. Logan was a bit further away, having slung on a jean jacket. That meant right before me was Cam, balancing the bike with his feet on the pavement in an opposing leather jacket, making the most blaring difference between the two.
For a moment I hesitated, not knowing who had thrown me the helmet. Who was I supposed to go with?
I almost considered closing my eyes and spinning around until I stopped and choosing the one that was closest. However in a more rational thought, I realized how ridiculous that idea was, instead taking a step towards the closest brother.
Having travelled a fair few times on the motorcycles with both brothers by now, it made my mount of it far more graceful than the night of Sarah’s birthday party. Thankfully the stumbling awkwardness had only happened in front of Cam who had the grace to keep quiet about it – though I long suspected he’d been smirking underneath the face guard.
I let out a deep breath, focusing on keeping my body from going through all those raging hormones as I slipped behind him, wrapping an arm about his stomach. It was no help, though, it always happened despite all my cursing.
Feeling the burn that didn’t come from the sun, but could only be from Logan’s gaze, I turned my head to find him looking towards us though I couldn’t see his expression. Not bothering with a word, I held up a single middle finger that I seemed to have reserved for every member of this band.
“Two fingers, darling,” said Cam easily with a grin colouring his voice, “He’ll understand that better.”
Instantly I held up the two fingers, but frowned, returning, “That’s a peace sign, you idiot.”
With a loud laugh, Cam pried a hand off the handlebars to take my hand in his. While I tried very hard to ignore that burning pit in my stomach, he turned my hand around, though his fingers lingered for what seemed like an indecent amount of time. Oh man, what were they doing to me? I was thinking him touching my hand was indecent? I’ve done far more indecent things with people I’d known a lot less.
“Now it means fuck off,” he informed me.
And with that he gunned the ignition.
“Where are we going?” I shouted at the top of my lungs, moving in as closely as possible so he could hear me. At the same time I managed to make the idea of being separate entities a joke as I shifted closer, wrapping both arms around him.
“Los Angeles.”
My eyes bulging, I bellowed, “What the fuck?” However it was lost to the air as he took off, the engine drowning out all the words.
As his last words to me had promised, there was quite the drive to be had between Belmont Valley and going to the place I’d gotten my first apartment. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said earlier they had a drive to do, making sure we weren’t going to arrive to any party at a normal decent time. We were rock stars; we could never arrive on time. That would be sacrilege, wouldn’t it?
After hours pressed against Cam’s back, watching the desert pass in a flash as we raced down the road at a speed I was sure we’d be arrested for, I realized I was starting to choke myself with all the sexual tension going around. Every time his leg shifted or he leaned back into me slightly I had to give myself a lecture on self control.
So when he pulled off the road to get gas, I took my escape. There was no way I could survive hours more of that. I was going to spontaneously combust. After taking a moment to calm myself down in the bathroom, reminding myself that there was no point feeling all these emotions clouded with lust when I was leaving in just one more full day, I headed back out, this time with the helmet under my arm.
Knowing very well that I couldn’t just switch over to the other brother without causing some sort of ruckus – not to mention the sensations wouldn’t just go away – I gave them a smile where they were waiting beside their bikes, eating chips from the gas station, before sliding into the car. It was quite the sexless environment, not meaning any offense to the Rob and Graham, but it only seemed to be the Harrison brothers that had this effect on me. I was starting to wonder if their little sister would be the same way.
In the driver’s seat, Rob eyed me in the mirror, asking, “You’ve come to your senses, then?”
Rolling my eyes, I replied, “My legs and ass are starting to hurt.”
“Cam can do that to people,” he joked back with a mischievous glint to him.
Bursting out laughing, I sat the helmet on the bench seat beside me, glancing out the window to watch as Logan crumpled up his chip bag and tossed it at Cam’s face. Cam just caught it and threw it back harder.
While the brothers mounted their bikes, getting ready to continue racing each other down the roads in the lead, I tapped my fingers on top of the helmet thoughtfully. Perching on the edge of the seat, I traded looks at the drummer and bassist, asking, “Whose helmet is this?”
“Mine,” answered Graham, sending me a befuddled look.
With a grin, I told him, “Your hair must smell wonderful.”
“You’re always welcome to whiff.”
Letting out another laugh, I glanced ahead before shouting, “Wrong side of the road!”
Instantly Rob swerved back to the right, wearing an expression torn between being indignant and embarrassed. “You lot drive on the wrong side of the road,” he mumbled darkly before reaching to the stereo to turn up the radio.
Without any further accidents, we didn’t stop until we reached wherever this party was happening – it better be fucking good if this was the drive I was getting put through. After all, it seemed like such a waste to be coming here now when I’d only have to drive back to Belmont in order to head to LA with Cash the following day. However there were no qualms in my head as we listened to good music and I got to watch the sun set as I stretched out in the back of the car, sound tracked by favourite Kasabian album.
It had been a long time since I’d lived in California now, and the only time I’d went up to the Hollywood hills were for parties since I’d lived down in the city. So I had no idea whose house it was that we pulled in front of, but I had enough reason in my head to make out that it was some famous person as I got out of the car, raising my eyebrows at the obnoxiously huge house.
Despite all my claims at being an arrogant rock star, a big fancy house had never been a part that appealed to me; it would be always be so empty. But I had countless friends that liked nothing more than their huge mansion.
And with all the expensive cars littered about with the pulsing music, I could only think this had to be quite the night. And by all the paparazzi that were buzzing about on the edge of the property, it had to be quite the star-studded night happening inside. As we passed I was certain half of them wet themselves at the sight of me in a car with half the members of The Bends, even if it was the quiet portion.
Shoving my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket, I left my car buddies in order to wander towards the two brothers who had parked side by side, ignoring the paps flashing their cameras mindlessly with all the skill of someone who dealt with this all the time. Despite the fact I didn’t recognize the house or any cars about, I had no doubt that I would know plenty of people inside.
I got there right in time for Logan to put his hands on Cam’s shoulders, pushing him towards the house. “Don’t get in any fights,” Logan warned before ruffling a hand through his brother’s helmet hair. At least it helped it make it all deliciously rumpled again.
It was impossible for me to hide my grin at that.
Shooting his brother a dirty look, Cam tried to flatten his hair but it was of no use. In the end, he just said, “I’m not the one always getting in punch-ups.”
“You’re forever getting your head kicked in,” laughed Logan, giving me a light shove on the shoulder. “He always used to pick fights with lads twice his size growing up and I was always the one finishing them.”
If looks could kill Logan would have been dead on the ground. As it happened, he continued to smirk smugly at his brother as I laughed.
“Fuck off,” came Cam’s brilliant response.
Knowing I shouldn’t be laughing at his expense, but doing it anyways, I shuffled forwards so I was beside Cam as we went up to the house. “Deep breaths,” I advised, whispering in his ear.
At the action Cam unconsciously shifted towards me, making my next move all the more easy. Slipping my arm in front of him, I found the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, snagging both it and the lighter that he kept on him at all times. Sending him a smirk of my own, I stole a smoke before passing it back to him.
He caught it easily, not bothering to look away as I took my own deep breath while lighting the smoke. Tossing the lighter back to him, I spared him one more little grin before I turned around to push through the front door.
I always headed into these things like I owned the place.
With a cigarette in hand, I only got two steps into the house that spelt out money in the least classy of ways before I was almost attacked by someone shrieking my name.
As I’d suspected, I knew countless people here. They were the same people that I’d spent my time partying with when I lived here, although they had all either risen in fame or were now the shadows of fame still hanging around the parties. It turned out Jen owned the house – we used to be friends in the early Red Riot days when she was first starting her acting career and was hanging around the same dingy places as us.
However she had the sense to leave those dingy places alone and move onto higher and better things, while I appeared destined to revel in them forever. Maybe it was just the fact I’d never been able to escape the way I’d been brought up completely.
Instantly I was separated from the boys I’d arrived with, leaving them up to the wolves though I’d stop and wonder if the insanely drunk population of the party was going to understand a word that they were saying. They might need to tone down the Northerner slang if they wanted to be understood.
There were all sorts that I’d known for years around here; actors, musicians, artists, comedians, athletes, models. They were all here. And the amount of substances going around was quite impressive as well, every room I walked into there was some new exciting thing being passed about. For the moment I was sticking to alcohol and a bit of weed, not quite in the mood to get into anything heavier at the moment.
Music blasted through every room, and it couldn’t seem to settle down on one thing in particular, making me wonder who was at that helm. It jumped from The Beach Boys – I was down at the pool in the backyard when a giant sing-along begun – to pulsating dance music within seconds. I wasn’t that bothered by it, to be honest, more focused on the people I was running into and my third gin and tonic. Even if I loved some of the songs, I’d long ago learnt that parties like this weren’t where I found the best music.
It felt like a high school reunion of sorts, quite an apt description of the debauchery that was happening – though with more money and more drugs floating about. I wandered from room to room, getting shouted at by more drunk and high people each time. For a time I hung around the sitting room at the back of the house as I sat on an acquaintance’s lap while they played a round of strip poker – considering all the a-list actors around the table it was quite the sight. Around the pool I was held onto far too long by a girl I’d never had any fondness for as she prattled on about her next “groundbreaking” piece of art. She always had been one to have her head up her own ass.
By my fourth double gin and tonic, my steps weren’t so even and I wouldn’t have doubt I was getting louder and louder with every minute. I even started giving out sloppy kisses on the cheeks, though that wasn’t that different from sober me.
Eventually I decided I was going to find a Harrison brother. The whole point of the night had been to spend time with them.
I didn’t find them my first round of the house, but I didn’t dare make my way upstairs to the bedrooms were situated, I wasn’t in the mood to walk in on anyone fucking – especially not if it was one of them. Maybe that would make leaving easier, I considered but still stayed on the ground floor and basement levels.
It wasn’t until my second lap of the house that I found Logan in the enormous sitting room that had all doors open wide to the pool.
To be honest I wasn’t that surprised that he was taking part in a game of beer pong.
“Are you still in high school?” I questioned, leaning back against the table to look up at him from beneath my eyelashes as I took a sip.
Logan stole a look to me before focusing back on the game at hand. Catching the tiny ball that had been thrown from the other table from a very drunk basketball player of all things, he sent me the biggest of grins possible. “I think you’re my good luck charm, love,” he announced, pressing a kiss to my hair.
My breath caught at the action, and I had to remind myself where we were and what we were doing.
Rolling my eyes to down play my reaction, I didn’t even try to tell him off for using that word as he took aim, his eyebrows furrowing. He was far too drunk to tell him anything now, and a bit too focused on the game.
He sunk the ball into the full beer cup on the other side, making him hop up and down as he shouted triumphantly.
Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he dragged me towards him, hugging me so closely I could barely breathe. You would have thought he just won the world cup or something. Maybe it wasn’t just Cam that made him exceedingly competitive. However he let me go just as his opponent sunk a ball of his own.
Cursing but with a shrug, Logan let go of me, taking the ball out of the red cup before chugging down the beer altogether. In amazement I watched him chug, never taking a breath even as the song changed over to some upbeat disco music.
When he finished the beer, Logan gave a grimace, wiping his sleeve across his mouth and announcing, “I hate Abba.”
“Abba is awesome,” I corrected just as he went to take his next shot.
Knowing that it would just annoy him further, I began to sing along to the song happily with a smirk. “I wasn’t jealous before we met. Now every woman I see is a potential threat.” Logan just sent me a dirty look that I replied to beamingly, glancing out around the room instead as I continued to sing along.
“And I’m possessive, it isn’t nice,” I sang just as I watched the other Harrison I’d been looking for enter the room, “You’ve heard me say that smoking was my only vice. But now it isn’t true. Now everything is new…”
I trailed off as Cam walked towards us.
Logan took that moment to bellow, “Abba sucks!”
The response was a chorus of people from all around the room and the pool, shouting back, “Abba rocks!”
Laughing so loudly I thought my stomach would rip, I leant back against the table to keep me upright when Cam halted in front of me. Maybe Logan wasn’t the only one with personal space issues, because Cam and my knees knocked together. Not that I was complaining, the warmth was stretching out by just the simplest of touches.
“Abba rocks,” I repeated with a wink at Cam, making him chuckle.
Without so much as greeting his brother who was so close to our sides, he took the drink I’d been nursing from my hands. Not troubling myself with resisting – we’d been sharing drinks for so long now – I just sang, “I’m feeling supersonic, Give me gin and tonic.”
However the Oasis song was set to the tune of Lay All Your Love On Me, which wasn’t something I was proud of.
Supersonic was never supposed to sound like that.
“That was fucking terrible,” snorted Cam easily.
Crinkling my nose, I could only agree despite my legendary level ego. “I know,” I admitted, “And I regret it already.”
Meeting my gaze, we smiled at each other – that smile full of secrets that we shared when thinking about our nights that we spent alone together. He took another gulp from my drink, shifting a little bit closer to me, letting me catch a whiff of him over all the sweat and perfume that filled the room. And it gave me craving for cigarettes and, well, him to be perfectly honest. Everything about him was giving me cravings.
“Mate, I’ve almost won!” called out Logan, though he only got our attention when he grabbed both Cam and I by the shoulders and spun us to the table. I’d been too busy staring at Cam to really focus on Logan’s words.
Although I severely wanted to roll my eyes at Logan’s antics, I watched obediently as he began to take aim. My attention was stolen from the brother to my left when the other one pressed my drink into my hand, gaining my glance. I pulled in a shaky breath, that sexual tension was filling my veins now.
Quickly I looked back to Logan, watching as he took his throw very seriously, spending all the time in the world getting his angle right instead of just tossing it.
Maybe I should have listened to Cash.
This might have been a bad idea.
Just as Logan threw the little balls, a set of hands settled on my shoulders, spinning me around before I had the chance to see if Logan had won in the end. It would be quite the story, Logan Harrison beating NBA champ at a game of beer pong. However I didn’t even hear the reactions when I came face to face with who had spun me around.
For a moment I thought I was seeing a ghost.
The brown eyes were more clouded than I remembered, and his beard had streaks of grey in it opposed to the tawny hair that he’d always had before. However I suppose that was just what time did to people. I could only gape at him stupidly. It had been so many years with no contact I hadn’t been expecting to see him here. I suppose this had always been his territory, though, he’d introduced me to all of it.
Josh Stevens may have gained a few wrinkles over the years, but he was as handsome as I remembered. And all the sudden I was eighteen years old with my voice caught in my throat, staring at him as if he was some deity. He still had the power to make everything else fade away.
However he didn’t flash me a charming grin and tell me my band was ‘pretty good’. No, he didn’t even get a word in before Cam shoved him back with the amount of force he’d always reserved for just his brother.
I only gained my voice back when Josh stumbled back, obviously having had too much to drink tonight, and tripping over his own feet. “What the fuck, Cam?” I shouted, taking the time to shove Cam just as the music paused for a moment to change songs.
Even as Daft Punk’s Instant Crush started playing around us, I knew I had managed to gain the attention of at least half the room and some from the pool. I’d always had a set of lungs on me. However I didn’t even spare the rest of them a glance to tell them to go to hell, reserving an angry one just for Cam before I spun around to Josh.
This wasn’t the time to start a fight, especially not with him.
All it took was me to glance at him again to notice something else was off besides getting pushed around by an English prick and having drunk too much. I wasn’t seeing him through the love-blinded goggles of my younger self anymore, and I could see him all the more clearly for it. He was pale and clammy, sheen of sweat across his forehead and his clothes were hanging a bit more. He still hadn’t made it off the floor.
“Help me get him up, you jackass,” I muttered to Cam, quickly crouching down to grab Josh’s hand. He felt cold.
Cam stood there, staring at me as if I’d grown a third head, but when I sent him another death glare, he followed my lead. Between the two of us we hauled Josh up; he might as well have been dead weight.
“Jude,” he mumbled groggily, his head lolling against my shoulder, “I thought it was you.”
With gritted teeth, I yanked his arm around my shoulder for support when he began to stand on his own accord. Glancing around at all the stares, I caught sight of the pool house, knowing full well that was my best bet. There was no way I could get him into a private room upstairs on my own, not to mention there were probably people fucking in every single one of them by now.
I could only hope desperately no one had realized that they could use the pool house that gave some privacy with its blinds and walls.
Without looking at Cam who couldn’t seem to form coherent sentences anymore, I began to drag Josh towards it, trying to get him out of the sight of everyone who was still staring at us. Even Logan had frozen, back turned from the game, to watch. It wasn’t an easy feat, though; I was supporting half his weight.
It wasn’t until I’d shoved open the door of the pool house and turned around to close it behind us that I realized Cam had followed. There were lines between his eyebrows as he frowned, the same ones he got when he was thinking deeply or incredibly confused by something in front of him. At the moment I couldn’t really say which of those was true, and I wasn’t really bothered.
“Jude –” began, but I cut him off, shutting the door with a snap.
Thankfully there was a bed only a few paces back from the door, and after making sure all the blinds were closed so no prying eyes could make anything out, I helped Josh back there. I let him fall a bit too hard back onto the bed with a flump.
He didn’t bother to even stop it, making my concern mount to outrageous levels, just letting himself fall back carelessly.
Stepping in between his legs, I leaned over him, bracing a hand on the bed covers beside him as I pressed a hand to his clammy forehead. He looked like absolute hell. “Oh Josh,” I murmured, “What have you been doing?”
My voice had his eyes flickering open again as if he was just clinging to consciousness.
At the sight of me leaning over him, he blinked, clearing his eyes ever so slightly. “Jude,” he repeated my name in amazement, “I knew that was you.”
With my eyes searching his face I pushed back into standing position over him. What had he been doing? He was wearing a new leather jacket, but it looked like it had been ran over a thousand times from a truck and his jeans were dirty.
When I moved away, Josh followed, pushing up to his elbows beneath me.
There past a moment of silence as the song changed once again, back to Abba. Maybe someone had it out for Logan after all. The speakers in the room that was cut off from the chattering and partying on the other side of thins walls echoed the song around us. I’ve been cheated by you since I don’t know when. So I made up my mind, it must come to an end. Look at me now, will I ever learn?
“I missed you, Judie,” he murmured using that pet-name I’d always hated, sitting up.
Yet I didn’t have a response, I was just staring at him like he was an alien.
I don’t know how but I suddenly lose control. There’s a fire within my soul. Just one look and I can hear a bell ring. One more look and I forget everything.
Since I didn’t respond, Josh took it as he wanted, slipping his arms beneath my jacket, tangling us up together. With a sigh he tugged me into a hug, but his hold wasn’t that strong as he dropped his head between my breasts, breathing in deeply. “I love you,” he mumbled, his words starting to slur as he lost his coherency again.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I reached around, trying to pull his arms away from me. “No you don’t,” I told him gently, “You never did.”
“I did,” he corrected, just in the way he had before. Even he knew he was lying. It was just what he’d always done. Josh Stevens was a pro at using people’s emotions against them; it worked in his song writing too, not just his personal life. Breathing in again, he slurred, “Always.”
When I’d almost got his arms off, his hands slipped under my shirt, running along my stomach. I shivered, but still pulled him away, pushing him back on the bed.
With a groggy grin, he pulled me with him, asking, “Could you…”
However before he could finish the sentence, he trailed off, eyes rolling into the back of the head as he passed out beneath me.
With all the gentleness in the world, I ran a hand over his cheek, staring at him for a long moment. But then practicality hit me. Wanting him to be comfortable, I pulled his jacket off softly and that’s when I saw it.
“Oh, Josh,” I murmured.
I’d always known Josh liked partying and extremes, after all he’d introduced me to all the drugs in the world that I could have ever wanted. And he’d always been the only one who could convince me to try anything, and with things much harder than a little bit of coke, I’d only tried under his influence to which my band had almost killed me for. It wasn’t like I’d enjoyed it, but I would have done anything for him. I even used to go get him crack from his favourite dealer when he was in the mood yet didn’t want to go out for it.
Even that didn’t prepare me for the littering of track marks up his forearm. They were red and angry, scratches running up with them. Holding his hand in my mine, I could only stare down at him in shock. It explained the clouded eyes and almost dead gauntness about him.
Sighing, I rolled him on his side carefully, grabbing pillows to stuff behind him so he couldn’t roll onto his back in his sleep. After I’d done that, I covered him with a blanket.
Holding his jacket in my hands, I searched through the pockets until I found what I was looking for. If the track marks hadn’t been enough to tell me exactly what Josh had been up to these days, the bag of brown was proof enough.
Making sure he didn’t have anything else in any pockets in his jeans, I tossed his coat onto the side table before heading to the bathroom where I flushed the heroin down the toilet.
It wouldn’t do much, but at least he wouldn’t have a fix the moment he woke up hungover and aching for another hit. A person like Josh had all the money he could ever wish for to spend on drugs, not that you’d have thought by the look of him.
For a short while I sat on the bed beside him, watching him carefully.
That was my first “love”. That was the only guy I considered myself to have ever been in a relationship with, the same one who had told me he was fucking everything else behind me back with a shrug. I’d cried myself hoarse over that man. I’d loved him so much. He was the same one I would have done anything for.
Now he would be an almost forty year old drug addict. While I, on the other hand, was in the biggest band in the world making my own solo album, and with the exception of drinking too much and occasionally snorting something, was quite the healthy person beside the issues that existed in my own head. Most of the issues came from my childhood or Josh.
Maybe he’d done me a big favour.
With one last sad look, I brushed his hair away from his gaunt face before standing up quietly and making my way out of the pool house.
I closed the door behind me gently before spinning around, only to come face to face with Cam who apparently hadn’t moved since I’d shut him out before. And at the sight of him, I realized that I felt like I hadn’t had a drink in weeks. That had been quite the sobering experience.
Running a hand through my hair, I said distractedly, “I’ve got to go.”
Brushing past him I almost made it into the house before he’d grabbed my hand. “No, you’ve got to tell people what happened,” Cam told me fiercely, dragging me around to face him. “You know what they’re thinking.”
There was that anger I hadn’t thought I’d ever be faced with. When we’d got into that tiny spat about me teaching Logan guitar it hadn’t been like this, then he’d just tried to stoically ignore me. This time I could have sworn flames were shooting out of his eyes in his fury and his hands were a lot more rigid than they’d ever been with me before. It was the same kind of rage I’d seen him focus on his brother, but never on me. This wasn’t the kind of emotions he reserved for me.
Yet I wasn’t in the mood to be the peacemaker at the moment. I’d thought I’d handled the situation with Josh a lot more gracefully than a person like me could, but he was giving me every excuse in the world to ruin it when he looked at me like that. Accusations and anger only fueled me to explode.
I barely restrained the emotions as I sent him a bored look, yanking my hand from his grasp. “Do I look like I care what they thinking?”
With that I stalked away from him, but Cam wasn’t about to let me go.
Oh, he still had so much to learn about the Turner temper.
“They’re all going to thing you slept with him,” he goaded me, following in behind.
Grinding my teeth, the look I shot him should have been enough to quell anyone, but I suppose the Harrison’s had a whole temper of their own. “That wasn’t long enough for Josh and me,” I snapped back, “We go for marathons when we’re together.”
The muscle in Cam’s jaw clenched at my words. “With how fucking high he was he’d only be able to get it up for two minutes.”
My eyes flashed around the room we’d strode into when he said those words, hoping desperately that no one had heard what he said. Thankfully the foyer was empty, everyone had moved into other rooms in the house. Stabbing a finger into his chest, I whispered angrily, “Shut up. Shut up! Just fucking shut up about that, Cameron, you don’t know anything about it.”
“I know that people took photos of you going in there with him. I know that they’re going to be all over magazines tomorrow saying that you’re a whore,” he snapped back, moving in as if to try and intimidate me. Too bad I wasn’t one to ever get intimidated. “And I know you’re just going to let them write the stories without caring what it does to you.”
All that rationality from minutes before where I’d tried to keep my emotions under wraps were coming out. And it was all going to explode on Cam, because he was the only one there to take it. Resentment, anger, sadness, and it was all going to be for him.
It was his own fucking fault though.
And I searched for the words that would cut the most. “Like you did with Arabella?” I shot back, watching him freeze. “You let everyone think you were the bad guy in the press when she fucked your brother, so don’t you fucking dare tell me anything about the press, you hypocrite. I can do whatever the hell I want.”
Knowing that gave me some time, I swung open the door behind me, hurrying out the door. I hadn’t been joking when I said I had to get out of there. I had to get away from all of it, from these feelings I’d been having for Cam, from Josh and the drugs, from all these famous people that littered the building. It was too much right now and I couldn’t deal with it. I was going to explode, and I didn’t want to do it in front of everyone.
The moment I rushed into the drive, the paparazzi that were still waiting on the edge of the property line went crazy at the sight. And I froze in spot.
“You’re just giving them a better story,” called out Cam.
Having not realized he’d followed me, I spun around, fuming as my chest heaved up and down. “You want me to give them another story?” I snarled, filling in the space between us. “Well, be careful what you wish for Harrison.”
Gripping the front of his shirt, I yanked him towards me, slamming my lips against his, knowing that the flashes were going insane behind us.
The throbbing anger that had been pulsing through my body didn’t stop, but it was joined by that familiar warmth that heated in my core whenever Cam was close enough to touch, let alone when I kissed him like this.
He didn’t respond immediately in his shock, but my eyes were closed as I moved my lips temptingly against his, dragging my teeth along his bottom lip until he gave a shudder. When my hand transferred from his shirt, running up his chest until I could knot my hand in his hair, all my thoughts wanted to vanish, but I managed to keep some of my wits about me. My knees were already going weak and he wasn’t kissing me back.
However he got over the astonishment soon enough and that was what I’d been waiting for. His lips finally moved, going to deepen the kiss right as his hands gripped my waist, tugging me as close as possible without me passing through him.
Ripping myself away, I met his eyes that were clouded with desire, but I was glaring.
With my fisted hand, I threw a punch at his jaw with all the force I could put behind it. And with the anger that had driven every moment, that was a hell of a lot.
Cam stumbled back, almost falling over in shock.
He was staring at me like he’d be struck by lightning, pressing a hand to where I’d hit.
“There’s your fucking story,” I sneered before spinning around.
This time, unsurprisingly, he didn’t follow me.
I went straight through all the flashing cameras that threatened to blind me, but I couldn’t make out a word they were saying. My ears were filled with white noise as I went blindly into some neighborhood I’d never been in before. They followed me for almost a block, shouting and taking photographs.
However most of them soon realized I wasn’t going to have any response, and raced back to where Cam was to continue with the story.
The international sleazy magazines of the world were going to explode tomorrow.
I was a bit smug about that.
Yanking out of my cell phone, I had my manager on the phone before I realized what I was doing. Even after her groggy hello, I just started, “I need you to rent me a car. I’m somewhere in LA and I need to get back to Belmont.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” Mandy informed me, “How I supposed to get you a car?”
“You found me in the middle of Prague when you were still in this country when I was drunk and didn’t have a phone,” I reminded her, “You can get me a fucking car. And I need you to get me the number of Josh Stevens’ management, but the car is more important right now.”
Mandy was starting to sound much more awake now, realizing the importance of the moment. “Jude,” she said cautiously, “What’s going to be in the tabloids tomorrow? You know I don’t like surprises.”
“But I do,” I replied with a bitter laugh.
- Okay, I want to hear it. Tell me what you think. Ah, I've been thinking about writing this chapter forever. I'm so happy.
What do you think will happen with Cam and Jude? What will Logan do? What do you think of Josh? What's going to happen with the whole studio thing and leaving?
TELL ME!
Argh, I'm so happy I got to write this.