Worlds Apart

Chapter Eighteen

I was awoken by a hand on my shoulder. At first it was gentle, rubbing little circles, to which I just responded by giving a rather complaining groan and turned my head in the other direction.  Sometimes I was quite unwilling to actually wake up – well, most of the time.

The hand only responded by losing all that tenderness and giving me a rough shake instead. Paired with it came with a voice snapping, “Jude wake up. You’re drooling on the board.”

That was enough to wake me into full consciousness.

Well, not quite, but it did have me blinking groggily in response as I straightened. Between rubbing my eyes, I threw daggers at Cash through a glare. “Fuck off,” I mumbled.

Instead of feeling the need to respond or appearing insulted, Cash just brushed his long hair behind his ears as he too straightened – satisfied that I was awake now. And it was done only to send me the most pointed of looks before tipping his head subtly behind him.

Although I would have been quite content to glower at my producer until I was fully awake, I knew enough to know subtly wasn’t his strong suit and could only follow the nod with my eyes – making sure they were narrowed, of course. If someone was to wake me up, they better have coffee because I was liable to start ripping people to shreds with my hands and words. Cash should know that by now.

My slightly murderous thoughts were halted when I caught sight of the flock at the door.

It was only then when I realized Cash’s words to me hadn’t been to get a reaction. I truly had been drooling on the board. There was a crusty line tracing down my chin.

And there were photographers in my studio.

Brilliant.

I’d completely forgotten about them – as I usually did. I’d done an interview the day before and here were the photographers to do the follow up. We were doing it here after my flat out refusal to go to some studio for hours for just some fucking magazine. They decided that they could do the whole ‘look at them hard at work’ shot instead, because that was the only thing that I was likely to agree to.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the empty bottles that littered the desk that Cash and I had pushed to the wall when we’d got here. For once I could say that they were mostly water bottles. At least when it was only Cash and I the road to the straight and narrow seemed simpler – when we were working of course. Although that didn’t speak for the empty bottles of booze that were mixed in as well, not to mention the gin one at my feet that my bare foot was brushing against. That paired with the state of me it probably wasn’t looking to good.

To me, though, the studio looked almost surgically clean. It was in complete order with the gleaming hardwood floors and its shiny surfaces that were cleaned whenever I ventured outside. However I’d just finished up a couple month stretch of grunging it up at Valley Sound, my opinion was bound to be slightly skewed.  

Cash had his eyebrows raised, obviously amused at the state they found me in and the fact I was still blinking in confusion. I bet they’d already taken a picture – it’d be just my luck for the story to be turned around to be a cover piece on my apparent lifestyle spiral.

When no one else bothered to break the silence, it fell to me to slowly say, “Hello?”

That woke them out of staring at me… somewhat. I was starting to feel like some tropical bird on display at a zoo with the way I was being perceived by them.

The one that was holding the black equipment bags just blinked, remaining rather star struck by the very pedestrian situation. Did they send the new guys to do my shoot? People should know better than that, I could destroy them if I was in a mood – and had in the past. I was what they called a “difficult” job.

At the very least the one holding the camera had the courtesy to become aware of herself – and the blatant staring – as she straightened, forming a more professional expression. “Do you need a couple minutes to get yourself cleaned up?”

My eyebrows shot up at her offer; however I stayed quite silent, almost sizing her up from the distance without my gaze wavering for a fraction. Clean myself up? If I was going to do that I would need much longer than a few minutes hidden away in a studio bathroom. A shower and a brush for my hair would be needed, especially something to change into – I’d slept in these clothes, not to mention spent the day in them before. I didn’t appear magazine cover worthy at the moment, but I wasn’t bothered, they’d just have to deal with my leggings and over-sized flannel shirt that I’d rolled to my elbows.

A few minutes wasn’t going to help me at all.

That’s not what I said, though.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” I answered instead. Without a glance in his direction I just knew that Cash’s eyes had narrowed on me suspiciously, he was just smart enough to not speak up at this time in the morning.

Not bothering to make it inconspicuous I snatched up the pack of smokes and lighter that had been forgotten on the board in the wee hours of the morning by me. Take a minute to get cleaned up my ass. It was too early for me to even enjoy the confused expressions littering my tiny audiences’ faces; I just walked to the other door in the studio that specifically led outside.

“Jude, where –” started Cash, but the door snapped shut behind me, halting his question.

Blinking up at the sun, I busied myself with digging out a cigarette from the pack as I dropped back against the smooth wall, my shoulder blades smacking against it with a thump. I’d still been nursing a sleep filled head when I’d walked outside, somehow expecting it to be six in the morning so the brightly shining sun in the sky was a bit of a shock. At least in the little alley, hidden away from the boulevard, it was slightly darker to leave me be. I really wasn’t minded that the only thing in the space with me was an enormous trash bin.

The fact that I’d left the studio without a key only hit me as I was lighting up the smoke, cupping the flame behind my hand. There was no way I was getting back in the way I’d come since the door always locked behind – they were a little more paranoid down here than up in Belmont. I’d have to wander out of the alley and back through the front doors, where I’d instantly be framed in the lens of some paparazzi that was forever on the other side of the street. But what would it matter? I considered that as I sucked in a deep breath. I was going to be photographed a minute later anyways.

 So I was going to enjoy my stolen time with my cigarettes in the back alley. I was a bit more at ease back here, away from all the pristinely dressed people and their etiquette, back with the garbage bins and grime. It was a bit telling I suppose, but one can never wash themselves completely clean of their past, can they?

My time was cut short when the door behind me opened again.

With a bored look, I sucked in carefully, eyeing up Cash as he came to lean beside me. “Did you bring the key?” He simply held up the glossy key in question that dangled from his fingers, shooting me what I could only describe as a condescending stare. To that I did nothing but blow the smoke in his face.

Although he cringed, Cash didn’t bother whisking it away. “You know,” he began conversationally, “This is actually considered smoking now.”

“Thanks for the info,” I retorted rather shortly.

Apparently I’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed – sound board, rather.

Despite my careless words, I found myself frowning down at the pack I had clutched in my hand even as I sucked in another breath, making sure to fill my lungs to their absolute brim. I suppose he was right, I was really smoking again.

In Belmont I’d been having a cigarette every once in a while, mostly because I never bothered to buy my own instead opting to steal them off of Cam when the opportunity arose. Now I had to stop by at the corner store every morning to buy myself another. There was no one around here that had smokes on hand and even if they did they were liable to kill me if I started stealing them.

The last time I’d stolen a smoke had been back there, of course, where else would I have done it? Trying to ignore my still trembling knees, I’d snuck away from the bed – just for a moment – to dig through the pockets of his leather jacket that was pooled on the ground by the door. It had been forgotten there the moment we’d burst through in a haze. The entire time I’d been aware of his eyes, but I was trying to ignore everything that the gaze imposed, so I simply busied myself with the search. And with the pack in hand, I’d dropped into bed, over the covers and had lit the cigarette as I laid on my back, tossing the pack to the nightstand.

It had been a rare quiet moment between us in the night seeing as we were conscious, no screaming or moaning, just a hushed second. And when I could no longer ignore the way his eyes were glued onto me, I’d turned my head, sucking in a breath only to meet his gaze. And sharing a small smile, I’d held the cigarette up to his lips, letting him take in his own breath while attempting to disregard the fact my heart was thudding against my ribcage still.

And now I was sneaking into the back alley by the studio to steal some alone time with my smokes.

Now that was a hell of a lot less sexy.

“You okay?” asked Cash eventually, pulling me out of the thoughtful stare I’d gotten captured inside.

Blinking, I blew out the breath, sending him the first little smile of the day. I could tell that was my mistake as his eyes narrowed on me – Cash knew I was covering something up if I was sending him a smile in this situation. Especially if it was only minutes after he’d woke me up. That man did not miss a trick, did he?

However I was persevered with the fib, answering, “Fine.”

The flat look he sent me would have had me grinning at any other time, but I wasn’t really in the mood at the moment. “I left you in the studio at midnight,” he reminded me. “You said you were going back to the hotel soon, I wasn’t supposed to find you passed out with a gin bottle at your feet at noon the next day.”

Stalling my reply, I took another breath from the smoke, letting my eyes focus down on the burning ebb. “Well you’ve got your facts a bit screwed, sweetheart.”

Cash wasn’t finding me amusing at the moment. That was not what bothered me, though; half of our relationship was spent with him staring at me impassively. The concerned look was what got me – he never wore that. “Where am I wrong, then?”

Sending him the most forced smirk I thought I’d ever worn, I tipped my head back, squinting into the sun. “I stayed up in the studio because I would have slept if I went back to the hotel. My mom was working the morning shift and I was supposed to call her then or else I really would’ve gotten the riot act since we haven’t spoken in weeks. I didn’t get drunk to speak to my mother, Collins.”

Paired with the words, I sent him a despairing look, which helped to alleviate at least some of the worry etched into the lines in his face.

 What I didn’t mention was the fact we’d gotten into another argument – as we always did when we spoke – this time about the media coverage concerning Cam, Logan and Josh all in one go. Firstly she was furious that I had even been near Josh ever again, though that I could deal with because it was a good point. What had gotten angry words from me was when she’d informed me that whatever game I was playing with the Harrison brothers wasn’t fair to them or my band, and that I was being incredibly selfish. I’d reminded her that she didn’t know fuck all about my band or my relationships, which she of course blamed on me.

All of this happening at five in the morning when I hadn’t slept was not a clear course for victory, to be sure.

Moments after I’d hung up, absolutely seething in anger, my phone had buzzed with a text message from none other than my dear mother. From a woman who could barely work her phone as it was that was quite the achievement. It simply read: ‘Your father’ and then a number followed.

That was when I’d started drinking the gin.

I hadn’t expected to fall asleep on the board, though. That had been a surprise.

“Are you sure –” started Cash.

I cut him off with a grim expression, telling him, “I’m fine. I told you that already. I got my fill on motherly affection and then was too tired to drag myself to the hotel. It seemed like as good idea as any at the time.”

Cash snapped his mouth shut, but he wasn’t done scrutinizing me as if trying to find a gap in my story, which there was, of course. And a giant one at that, because when had I ever got all that motherly affection? “You’ve been weird since we left Belmont,” he observed.

“I’m weird now?” I replied, attempting to appear insulted so he’d back off already.

No such luck.

The sympathetic turn of the lips only grated on my nerves before Cash spoke. “It’s been three weeks, Jude; I thought you’d feel better now. You’ve been all subdued and quiet, it’s not like you.”

Not ready to admit to anything, I gritted my teeth as I answered, “Maybe I’m just coming down with the flu or something.”

“What happened between you guys?” asked Cash bluntly.

My eyes flew over to him at the question, even having my cigarette forgotten as it dangled between my fingers limply with the smoke wafting in the air between us. He hadn’t once mentioned the Harrison brothers since we’d left, and neither had I. Cash had to be able to at least guess what had gone on that night; it wasn’t like it was that big of mystery for him, he’d been there before and after. He wasn’t stupid. Plus he’d have the keen observation skills to see I was still wearing some of the clothes from the night before. I’d thought he’d just had the grace not to mention it.

Getting over my shock, I glared at him above my smoke, not caring for the concern that had appeared again. “What do you want to know?” I snapped. “Should I tell you every filthy little detail? How about what we did in that studio you love? I can promise you that you wouldn’t want to step foot in there if you knew all the things we did. What about positions, do you want to hear about those too?”

When he grimaced I still didn’t back off, continuing, “It doesn’t matter what happened. It’s over, Cash. Time you realized that too.”

Leaving those words hanging around, I flicked the butt into the garbage bin – they really were handy sometimes – before storming around to the front of the studio. Almost immediately I caught sight of the flock of press that always seemed to be outside but I couldn’t find it in myself to give that shit I’d just been talking about. If they could get a photo to create a story around, they could have at it.

The tension in the studio was thick that day.

Even the photographers sensed it, and they only stayed for a couple hours, getting all the shots for the story they wanted. Feeling a bit confrontational, I kept messing up my knotted hair even further hoping that they would make a comment so I could lash out. To my disappointment they didn’t say a word, probably sensing what I was trying to do.

Oh if only I could have taken out some of my anger on them, it would have helped all that angry stiffness that filled the air. Instead they were the most respectful of photographers I’d ever met, staying in the background and simply letting us work.

Work was one way to put it, I was too distracted to do anything of real important and Cash kept snapping at me.

On his part it was one technique for getting some emotion out of me, and a time proven one. Over the years Cash had learnt that when I shut down in a haze of emotions I wasn’t willing to feel, he could snap me out of it with the cruelest of words and harshest of attitudes. At the very least it awoke the anger and I could take a swipe at him before we got back down to work.

It didn’t help this time, though, I just had a thousand things running around in my head and I couldn’t pause a single one. My mother words over the phone during the morning, Cash and I arguing, the album getting close to a finish point, my father with his mysterious needs and Lizzy and Brandon’s wedding starting to loom in the distance. Not to mention the fact that I hadn’t heard a peep from either Harrison brother since I’d left.

Honestly I hadn’t expected to be in constant touch. I’d had no allusion that we were going to be rock star pen pals, but for all I knew they could have killed each other by now. There was nothing in the tabloids or on the internet about them. Yes, I had lowered myself down to the point of scouring the tabloids at the corner store when I got my cigarettes in the mornings. It was downright embarrassing yet what was I to do?

I didn’t even know their phone numbers, nor did they know mine. There had been no need for them since we saw each other every day. And now I was starting to feel the stupidity of that. Cash had their numbers, I knew that for a fact, but I couldn’t ask him for them.

So here I was. And nothing had been resolved because it was me, of course, and nothing ever would be.

The next day passed in the same fashion, though it was just Cash and I the entire time.

And so did the next and the one after that.

It wasn’t until days afterwards that Cash came in at our usual meeting time to the same staunchly silence we’d had between us for almost a week. It was getting close to painful. I couldn’t quite understand why I’d gotten as mad as I had at him, yet I was still too angry to back down, even for a moment. Funny how my mind worked, wasn’t it?

This time he tossed a magazine in my lap that smacked against the acoustic I had settled there, flopping to the ground. Although I threw him a dirty look, I still reached down, snatching it up.

“There’s something in there you might want to see,” said Cash. Turning back around, he headed the way he’d come, muttering, “I’m going to need some fucking coffee.”

When he could no longer see me, I let my lips purse, the hardness fading away from my face until the door slammed shut behind him. I couldn’t really be bothered with what was in the magazine; I was more focused on my friend. We usually didn’t fight like this; it was amazing what a little bit of influence from The Bends could do to a friendship that had lasted through everything that had been thrown at it. I was starting to think they’d rubbed off too much of their own issues on the rest of us.

To be honest I just wanted my Cash Collins back, especially if we were spending all this time alone together, it was a downright toxic atmosphere at the moment. We only had a week left in the studio here before we finished up the mixing altogether, just doing house cleaning sorts of jobs, and then we went back to our separate lives. I decided what my next step was, because – as always – it was a giant mystery what my future held while he went back home to his family. After that, who knew when the next time we’d be together was?

The problem was I always let my pride get in the way.

With a sigh, I flipped over from the makeup add that graced the entire back cover, only to be faced with a picture of none other than me.

It was from the photo shoot that had happened in the studio not too long before. The photograph they had chosen was soaked in darkness, no colours in the picture, just shades. I was leaning on the board, looking up as if staring through the glass from the control room, my arm propped up on the board and hand dug into my messy hair. I only hoped they had exaggerated the dark bags beneath my eyes because if not I definitely had some sleep to catch up on. I looked a tad sickly, but all in all I believed it was a good shot. At least it didn’t look fake.

The headline was running down the bottom of the page: “She’s Jude Turner and She’s a Riot”.

I wanted to roll my eyes at the headline; however I let my gaze wander up the side of the page, quickly taking in what other things they’d posted along side. Something about Jay-Z and a Black Keys’ review – which I definitely did want to read. I couldn’t see why Cash had told me I would want to read this. I could find an album review anywhere really, I wasn’t that fussed, I’d just listen to the album and make my own decisions as I always did. So it had to be about my article, had they really laid into me in the article or something?

With a frown pulling the edges of my lips down, I rested my arms on the body of my guitar as I flipped the magazine open, careful to read every word. What was it he’d wanted me to see?

I found it as I tried to find the article about me, a tiny sidebar in an item where they gossiped about the latest going on of celebrities and musicians worldwide. I usually didn’t bother with these things since I literally couldn’t be assed, but it was the photo that caught my eye.

It was Josh getting out of a black car with tinted windows.

Suddenly my hands tensed around the edges of the magazine as I hungrily devoured the words. ‘Without a word of explanation, a photo has been spreading around the internet of Josh Stevens of Green Light where he’s seen taking bags into a rehabilitation facility – one famous for its work with A-List celebs. With years under the careful management of Russell Johnson, one can only wonder what has pushed him to the breaking point.’

A part of me felt like scoffing, but the other – bigger – one was staring down at the page. I’d never really thought he’d go.

And I was still there, staring at the photo that had captured Josh with his shoulders hunched and hood over his head as he started towards the hospital, when the door opened again. I barely even glanced upwards.

Catching Cash’s eye, I looked back down at the magazine, but I couldn’t keep up the angry rule of only speaking during work any longer. Not when this was in front of me. If anyone could understand how I felt it would be Cash or my band, but he was the one who was here. He knew me before Josh, he’d seen the relationship play out and he’d been the one I used to call when I drank and drugged myself into oblivion while on tour after the blow up of it all. My band hadn’t wanted to hear a word about it anymore, so I’d called him. Who else would I call when I could barely form words?

“You know,” I began, chewing on the inside of my lips as I stared down at my Joshua Stevens. “I told Russell that I would sell all the stories about him to the press if he didn’t get Josh in rehab. I suppose rats float, don’t they?”

Cash pulled up the chair next to me – the same way we sat no matter what studio we happened to be in. “You could still do it, I’d love to watch.”

With a little laugh, I ran my finger down the photograph, saying, “You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do,” he disagreed sternly. That was what had me looking back up at him, catching that firm expression. “I watched what Josh did to you, but Russell was always the puppet master, wasn’t he? You once called me because you were terrified that Russell and Josh had gotten you to snort too much blow and your heart was racing so fast you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Of course I’d want to watch you make him cry like a little bitch; he’s not even an excuse for a human being.”

A ball formed in my throat as I listened to him, hardening until it had my eyes prickling with tears I never let fall as I realized I didn’t even remember that. “You’re the only one,” I mumbled, snapping the magazine shut, “He’s got himself a sterling public image.”

For the second time Cash disagreed with me, shaking his head. “You of all people know that the media is just lies for sensationalism.”

“I –” I began, but this time it was he who cut me off.

“But you’ve started believing what they write about you too. You think you’re some heartless, drug addict, alcoholic slut who can’t keep her life together and everyone hates.”

I blinked at his words, taken aback. “Well, that’s a bit blunt,” I muttered.

Cash just ignored me, sitting forwards and making sure eye contact as he spoke next.

“Everyone who has ever met you knows its absolute bullshit,” he informed me, continuing on that direct streak. “You pretend you don’t have a heart, but do you remember that mangy cat that you tried to save, because I do. It was an evil son of a bitch yet for some reason you adored him. You’ve experimented with drugs, but you’re no addict, never have been. You drink a bit much, but who hasn’t? Have you noticed how so many people were jumping to work on this album with you? It’s not just because you’re a brilliant musician. They’ve always loved you, and you’ve never been condescending to them, no matter whom they are or what they’ve done. You’re not what they say about you and I can’t understand how you don’t realize that.”

When he paused to take a breath, I found myself staring at him in amazement. However, as was my way, the defense mechanisms started kicking in almost immediately. “I am a bit of a slut sometimes, though,” I pointed out, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

It did just that, because Cash let out a laugh, replying, “Maybe but so what? It’s your choice and no one else’s.”

Chewing on my fingernail, I pointed out, “You’re making me seem like a saint or something.”

“That you are not,” he informed me surely, this time making me give a small laugh. “But, Jude, you’ve never been a bad person.”

The conversation had made the pit of my stomach warm a bit, maybe because Cash and I were on regular speaking terms again, yet I wasn’t going to think too much about the truth behind it. The conversation was getting too heavy for me, though, so I held up the magazine and asked, “So what did they say about me?”

“That you’re brilliant but you’ve got a major attitude problem.”

With a laugh, I tossed it away from myself, replying, “So the truth, then?”

“Exactly.”

It was a bit easier to work after that. Without the drag in the studio of Cash and I at one another’s throats it made it a whole lot easier to focus on what we were doing. Maybe I was still a bit more subdued than Cash would have liked – I could see the sidelong glances I was getting – but at least we were talking freely again.

I was certainly not dancing around the studio anymore, even when we started working on the song that I’d dragged the Harrison brothers in for the backup vocals. I could remember how clearly I’d been moving we’d recorded it and done the rough mixing however it just wasn’t in me right now. The groove still hit just as strong and I had no regrets on any choices for the song, but there was no jumping up and down as I danced around the control room like some idiot.

Some bit of me was wishing I’d got other people to do the backing vocals even when I reminded myself that there had been no one else. I wasn’t sure if I just didn’t want to think about them or if I was seriously petty enough that I didn’t want them on my album after the weeks of radio silence.

It was quite a difficult position I’d managed to get myself into. Even though I’d been present for Lizzy and Brandon’s almost picture perfect relationship, I’d made a personal rule to never sleep with a friend. And after Josh and all the problems he’d caused, I’d made the conscious decision never to sleep with another musician that I might run into again at some point. Actors were a grey area, though; if it was too tempting I could allow them, but only for one night.

I’d been trying to keep up a strict no famous people rule for myself, knowing the kind of media explosion that came with it. Of course it was far easier to me to run into someone I’d been with once if they were famous.

Now look what I’d done. I had very few guidelines when it came to my sex life, and Cameron Harrison had fucked all over it.

Quite literally, in fact.

And now I couldn’t focus, and I blamed him for it. But I also put that fault on my shoulders as well, and just to be petty I made sure to spread it to Logan and Cash even knowing it didn’t belong to them. I was annoyed about it all, though, and was quite alright with transferring it to them for some unknown reasons.

In all reality, I knew the blame was entirely focused on me. If I hadn’t kissed him the first time and if I’d just been smart enough to put it on ice after he’d kissed me in the studio, it wouldn’t be like this.

Hell, if I’d just woke him up to say a quick goodbye that morning it would be a completely different situation to the one I found myself in now. Maybe I could have gotten away with nothing more than a kiss for goodbye before I’d fled. There hadn’t been time to have the ‘what did this mean’ talk anyways. It could have been simple. We could still be talking.

Oh, who was I kidding?

It was only a certain type of person that could stay friends after a night like we’d had. I didn’t even know if I could handle it – not having tried before, but I could easily guess that Cam wasn’t the type. If anything Logan had told me about him rang true, it was Cam was the relationship type. That was something I wasn’t. I couldn’t even handle a few months with the same person whereas Cam easily did years.

No, I’d made the right decision to leave without a word, because what could have been said to one another that wouldn’t have been shattering? It could have only ended badly, and this way I’d just jumped past the fight that was bound to happen.

I was leaning back in my chair, eyes closed as I swung a pen between my fingers when I realized the song was perfect.

That was the way it always seemed to work with Cash and I when we were working together, one listen it would just click and we knew we had it. What it was I still wasn’t sure, even after all the recording I’d done over the years, but I could always hear it when it happened. Sometimes it was the most subtle of changes that we made yet it made all the difference in the world.

My eyes snapped open as I stared up at the ceiling. Even that was clean; however it wasn’t what I was most focused on at the moment.

When I turned my head to Cash, I knew he’d heard it too.

Yet with my morose mood having covered not only us but the studio as well, there was no cheering or hugging or kissing. Cash just raised an eyebrow at me, acknowledging the success before he pushed up from his chair. “Coffee?” he suggested.

Before I had the chance to reply, my cell phone began buzzing away in my pocket.

With a frown, I pulled it out – albeit slightly apprehensively. I knew I was going to get a phone call from my mother sooner or later, I mean there was no way I could get away with how rude I’d been to her the last time we’d spoken. And then there were the phone calls I was fielding from Mandy and my friends, because they kept asking if I’d been brainwashed out in the desert. They didn’t even know the whole of it, so far the only souls that knew for sure were Cash, Cam and I. And I was happy to keep it that way too if that’s how they were going to respond to something as innocent as a kiss.

However I wasn’t met with any of their names flashing across my phone, nor was it any of the other countless contacts I’d saved in my phone. It just read blocked number.

That wasn’t too odd, though. Seeing as the fact that there were a number of rather famous people dialled into my phone, it meant that their numbers were constantly shifting. I could barely keep up with them, some were worst than others, though.

With a shrug, I was just about to ignore it, let them leave a message when Cash interrupted.

“You’re going to want to answer that,” he informed me, pressing a gentle kiss to my head before hurrying out of the room.

For a moment I was frozen, watching him leave me alone in the control room. The kiss to my hair had been enough to solidify that our fight was officially over, but it took me a moment react, shaking myself out of the stupor. I still didn’t answer immediately, staring down at the buzzing thing in my hand.

How could he possibly know who was calling when the number had been blocked?

Since I trusted Cash with my music, I figured that I should be able to do the same with my phone calls. “Hello?” I asked, caught between suspicion and distraction as I leaned forwards, grabbing a water bottle from the table.

“Hi, darling,” said the thickly accented voice and my hand froze, fingers just brushing against the bottle. I’d already forgotten about a getting a drink, though.

It wasn’t that much of a surprise. He’d made me forget that I wasn’t supposed to talk about my past. He’d also made forget how to form coherent words. He’d even gotten me to forget my shirt in the studio. It shouldn’t have been very hard for him to get me to forget about some stupid drink of water.

“Cam?” questioned I incredulously. I didn’t need to ask though, of course it was him. I only knew one person that called me darling in that Northern voice of his. Then a thought occurred to me, and I frowned, adding accusingly, “Did Cash tell you to call me?”

“Apparently you’re a right pain in the arse to be around at the minute.”

Letting out a huff, I fell back in my chair haughtily, crossing my free arm over my chest. “He’s just being an old man,” I muttered, “I don’t know when he got so middle-aged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” pointed out Cam.

After all that time we’d spent together talking, it was easy for me to pinpoint the grin in his voice. I’d gotten good at reading his emotions from his voice when I was drunk, it made it quite simple while sober. And I found my lips turning up in a smile in response. Yet I quickly folded them, trying to keep the expression to myself even though I was alone in the control room.

“It is,” I insisted.

This time Cam gave a laugh, replying, “And where will you been when you’re sixty-four?”

I didn’t miss yet another Beatles reference getting shoved in my direction, and I could only roll my eyes. “I’ll be dead,” I informed him bluntly.

“Well, that’s optimistic.”

“Always,” I answered easily. And when a beat of silence fell over, I could only lean my head back, unable to hide the smile away. I’d been so annoyed at not only him just minutes ago but myself as well and now he had me smiling. He’d managed to get make some incredible expressions already, but I hadn’t thought I’d be smiling right now. “I didn’t think you’d be calling any time soon.”

“Apparently waiting on you is pointless,” Cam returned, a slight edge rising in his voice, “Someone had to break the silence.”

My eyebrows raised, about to snap at him that it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t even have his number. However I was distracted when I heard a car honk in the background, making my brow furrow in confusion again. In the months I’d been in Belmont, I don’t think I’d heard a car use its horn once. And it was around nine at night, he should be in the studio for a few more hours. I’d gotten quite used to their schedule.

“Where are you?” I asked, forgetting all about my previous insult.

“What studio are you in?”

Lazily I ran a hand through my hair, pushing my bangs out of my face as my mind wandered to far more interesting topics than my current whereabouts. I could think about a thousand better snaps in times to think about at the moment. “A place down on sunset,” I answered eventually, trying to focus on the question on hand. The problem was I was more preoccupied with times where we hadn’t been talking.

“I knew that already – you told me,” replied Cam in reminder. “I meant which studio number?”

Bolting up straight, I looked wildly around me as if he’d appeared in the room. Of course there was no one there, just an empty room about me. It was only his voice, coming to me all the way from Belmont. “What does it matter?” said I carefully.

“Because it does,” Cam responded, obviously amused. “What studio are you in, darling?”

“No,” I said steadfastly, “There’s no way you’re here. You’re fucking with me.”

“Already done that,” he countered, “So, studio?”

Still not answering, I stood up and followed the way that Cash had gone. Even as I opened the door, I replied to him in a firm voice, “I’m not telling you because you’re not here, you prick. You and Logan are playing some sort of prank, and I’m not going to fall for it.”

Yet hadn’t I done just that already?

I didn’t mention to him that I was already halfway down the hallway, turning around the bend with my feet treading across the gleaming hardwood floors. There was no way I was going to tell him that my eyes were wide and searching all around me as if he’d be hiding in some dark corner. And I was definitely keeping the leap my stomach gave at the sight of every person I passed, hoping that it’d be him. No, that was for me.

“I’m not playing a prank,” he assured me.

Heading up the three steps that lead into the large and airy common room, I peered around with the phone still pressed to my ear. “Why don’t I trust you?” I asked him, scanning the room. I caught no sight of my English prick, just confirming what I’d already known but had been – internally – hoping against. There was no way he was here.

The room was filled with bustling people, but I didn’t find Cam in the mess of people in the gleaming room.

Only a few feet away there was some boy band fooling about the group of couches while a legend in his own time was chatting wearily to one of the people that worked here, but I barely spared him a glance. When it was in comparison to Cam, I didn’t have much of a sight for other people even if I’d loved every song the man had ever made – not to mention the producer he was with was a bit of a hero as well.

I found Cash to my immediate left just as he caught sight of me. Sending him a shrug, I kept the phone against my ear even as I watched the surprise melt into a confused expression, his eyebrows drawing together in the middle of his forehead. Obviously he’d expected me to be holed up in the studio for the foreseeable future like something from a movie – I’d noticed he was only bothering to pour one mug of coffee.

Apparently I wasn’t as easy to predict as he’d thought.

“I don’t know,” said Cam, dragging my focus away from my producer. However it wasn’t just the reminder of the phone in my ear, because his voice wasn’t only coming from the shitty little speaker. “Why don’t you?”

With an eyebrow shooting upwards, I pivoted slowly on my heel, forgetting all about the phone I was still holding up.

It took a moment to gather my wits about me, even though he’d given me ample warning to his appearance – I just hadn’t been willing to let myself believe that he would actually do it. How stupid could he possibly be?

Pretty fucking stupid it seemed, because there he was with that smug grin covering his face. I couldn’t decide if his white shirt that cut off at the shoulders had been faded until the words were nothing but shadows from being in the sun or having been bought that way – knowing him, I knew which one I could guess. I suppose that wasn’t what mattered at the moment, but my mind had always had a way of clinging to insignificant details to a degree that it even showed up in my song writing.

Just like the way I found myself concerned with the fact his hair had fallen clumsily over his forehead on the one side. It should be illegal to look as raggedly attractive as he did. He probably could have slept in a dumpster and I’d still be the fool that thought he looked nothing short of striking.

However it was the sunglasses that he was wearing that jumpstarted my focus.

“You idiot!” exclaimed I loudly for the whole room to hear. For all I knew they’d all turned to look or they could just be ignoring me, having gotten used to my antics over the weeks. What did I care? I was a little one track minded at the moment.

Cringing at my voice’s sudden volume Cam pulled his cellphone away from his ear, reminding me solidly that I was still holding mine up.

Shoving my phone roughly into my jeans, I filled the space between Cam and I quite quickly even if it was just a few feet, not bothering to see if I’d cracked the screen. At the moment my cellphone was the last thing on my mind since I was a teensy bit preoccupied. And when I was in front of him, I punched him roughly in the arm

Whatever Cam had been expecting me to do; I was sure that wasn’t it. Rolling back onto his heels, he stayed staring across at me even as he lifted his hand to the area I’d punched.

And to be honest I hadn’t know what I was about to do when I’d rushed in to him.

Yet I’d never been one to understand my actions, anyways. One chat show, they’d tried to analyze my personality. And whether it was true or not, the person had said I had impulsive self destructive tendencies. It wasn’t exactly a surprise.

To be honest, I couldn’t understand my reaction or the contradictory thoughts that were flooding through me at just the sight of him.

Hadn’t I wanted to talk to him since the day after I’d left? I hadn’t let myself get to the point of desperation, but in all the silence it was getting to be that way. I’d been going over short moments in time in my head at every spare second, and it hadn’t just been of that last night, but a snapshot of him in my mind as we sang together in the pool or something along those lines.

I’d missed him, and I hadn’t even given myself the chance to tell him I was going to. All I’d wanted to do was talk to him again as I let myself go through withdrawal from our nights spent alone on the knoll.

I wasn’t detoxing from the alcohol, it was from him.

And now he was standing in front of me, like some fucking scene from a movie, and all I could feel was panic rushing through me. That old Turner gene was igniting all the cells inside me, telling me that I should be bolting in the opposite direction. It took all my self-control to stay put.

It hadn’t been as bad with Logan, even though I’d been pestered with images of him frowning over his guitar or sending me a brilliantly honest smile that never got posted in magazines since they preferred the snarl. The moment that was usually plaguing me was when he’d pulled me back, trying to say the words I wasn’t going to let him say when I was about to leave. It wasn’t a surprise that it was stuck in my head. If someone looked at me like he had, it was bound to be etched into my skull.

But I’d got the chance to say goodbye to him, even if I’d specifically made sure there was a lot left unsaid. With Cam I didn’t get that, and I knew it was my own fault, but that didn’t help me at the moment.

“You idiot,” said Cash, mimicking my words from before although he said it in a sigh.

It was enough to finally break the look that I was getting supremely frustrated with since he had the added protection of sunglasses. Successfully breaking our attention span, Cash stepped up to our sides as if he was getting prepared to step in between us in case a fight broke out. At the least he got us to swing our heads in his direction, though I kept stealing glances from beneath my lashes at Cam.

However my producer wasn’t focused on me, which had my eyes narrowing on him even as he sent Cam a pained expression. Apparently he’d seen my reaction from a mile away – maybe I was easier to predict than I’d thought, at least for him.

That didn’t stop the fact I was going to have to kill him for telling Cam to call me as if I was a ten year old that couldn’t handle her emotions. I was a twenty-three year old woman who couldn’t handle her emotions and liked it that way, thank you very much. I never did have delusions of myself, did I?

“I told you to call,” pointed out Cash, “I didn’t say show up at our studio.”

“I had to be down here for a meeting about our tour,” replied Cam with a shrug, glancing for a moment in my direction.

Oh sure, act like it’s no big deal. It was a huge fucking deal; I’d never had someone show up after I’d left them before. Especially when I’d gone without a word after a night like we’d had while he was still sleeping in bed, unknowing. It had been a move that was callous even for me, and would usually succeed in making anyone hate me. But it definitely didn’t lead a person to follow me to my studio.

Yet my thoughts were cut short when I was suddenly fixed with that mischievous smirk of his, causing me to narrow my eyes suspiciously. Maybe we were going to need Cash as the mediator here.

“And I have something of yours that you left in my room,” said Cam as he reached into the front pocket of his jeans.

Maybe the shock of seeing him here meant I was a little slow on the uptake, because I just found myself bewildered as I watched the action. However when I caught sight of the corner of red lace that was getting tugged out from his pocket, I hastily stepped forwards so that our bodies were almost brushing.

Stuffing my hand into the front pocket of his black jeans and tangling our fingers together inside the pocket, I shook the hair from my eyes as I looked up at him. It was hard to ignore that jolt that travelled through me, but I was doing my utmost best not to think about where my hand was at the moment. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that, I had more pressing matters at the moment.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I warned as my hip knocked into his.

The only response I got was a blinding grin that had my focus dipping down to his lips. And I couldn’t help but forget how soft they could be one moment before he got to work with his tongue. We were a bit too close for a public forum, but I was more concerned with the fact that he was clasping my hand quite closely in the constrained space.

It was quite obvious this wasn’t an appropriate place to be having this interaction, not with all the eyes that watched like hawks.

Giving a groan, I yanked my hand from his pocket but kept our fingers intertwined; making sure that my underwear was left out of sight. I would have very much liked to drag him behind me by the ear, but I settled for his hand as I pulled him out of the common room. Something about him was making me far more violent than I’d ever been before. Logan and him had really rubbed off some of their worse qualities on me, hadn’t they?

Now it wasn’t so hard to realize why I’d seen so many pictures over the years of Cam bruised and battered after fights with his brother.

Those thoughts were wiped rapidly from my mind when I felt his thumb running lightly across my hand.

With one last tug, I towed him into the privacy of our mixing studio before hastily jerking my hand out of his – it was doing strange things to my body, and I was going to need my wits about me. When I spun around to close the door behind us, I caught sight of two gaping jawed interns watching us in the hall.

Scowling, I simply flipped them my middle finger before slamming the door.

The scowl was wiped away when I turned about and almost knocked solidly into his body. With a sigh, I reached up, pulling the sunglasses off his face, my fingers brushing against his cheeks lightly. “How many times do I have to tell you not to wear sunglasses inside?”

Cam just grinned, letting me see those eyes of his for the first time in weeks and it sufficiently calmed me down. All that panic and worry that told me I should be heading in the opposite direction quieted in comparison. With him looking at me like that I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. Maybe if he hadn’t been wearing the sunglasses indoors I wouldn’t have punched him in the first place.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to punch me?” he replied with a healthy amount of sarcasm in his voice.

“Most of the time you deserve it,” I informed him.

His eyebrow rose at that before he answered, “Do I?”

“I was just a bit early,” I said as I moved forwards to dip my hand in his front pocket again, this time making sure my hand caused friction between the fabric and him. It was with great satisfaction that I watched his eyes close, the muscle in his jaw clenching. “You deserved it for this alone,” I continued as I pulled my lost underwear from his pocket.

And with that I took a hasty step back. I wasn’t retreating; I told myself firmly, I was just making sure there was enough room between us. When we were standing too close it did funny things to my head.

However I couldn’t stop the smirk I sent him when his eyes opened, I really had to learn to commit to things, didn’t I?

Dropping back against the wall, I lazily stretched against it, taking care to watch his response quite closely. “If you’re out here for meetings about your tour, where’s that brother of yours?” I asked, trying desperately to catch him in a lie.

It would be okay in here since there was no one else to hear.

“Back in Belmont because it’s his fault I’m here.”

Apparently it was my turn to look like a fool – as it always seemed to be. There was no catching him in a lie since he appeared to be the most honest person I’d ever spoken to. Yet my interest piqued, letting the tiny flash of embarrassment go almost unnoticed by me. “What’s he done this time?”

“The opening band something about liking your band, which gave Logan a right needle, making him think that they think you guys are better –”

  “Which we are,” I interrupted.

Whereas Logan would have been fabulously insulted by my words, Cam just rolled his eyes, continuing on as if I hadn’t even made a sound. “And, being him, decided he’d do a phone interview so he could call them out in the press.”

I couldn’t help myself from chuckling at that, having to raise a hand to my mouth as if I could hold it in that way, but of course it was of no use. It was so typical, I couldn’t believe it, and so perfectly a thing that Logan Harrison would do, there was no doubt about it. Actually, it sounded like something I would do if I was in a particular bad mood, though I don’t think Logan would have to be in a bad mood to do it.

Although the corners of his mouth twitched when I laughed, Cam was trying desperately to keep a straight face. “It’s just like the git to do it, too. And now they’re threatening to pull out of the tour because Logan said he was going to beat up their lead singer and the idiot is terrified that his face is going to get rearranged. They were only supposed to open for the UK leg, but we might be out of an opening act two weeks before the fucking thing starts. So I’m out here cleaning up his mess, again.”

Running my fingers lightly over the sunglasses I still held in my hand, I asked, “So that’s the only reason you’re out here?”

His eyes darkened on me, and I could feel the tingling running up my body even though we both stayed a safe distance apart. “I thought I could take some personal time,” he answered slowly.

“How long are you here for?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

Nodding slowly, I felt myself gulping at the words and implications filling the room, it was getting suffocating. What was it with us and studios?

What I couldn’t understand was how that tension could still exist between us. We’d already slept together, more than once in fact, wasn’t that the one sure way to make sure that these feelings went away? It had never even felt like this with Josh. The sexual tension had depleted after the very first night, though want had always lingered.

Finally pushing his hair off his forehead, Cam broke the gaze, allowing me to let loose the breath I hadn’t even known I’d been holding. I couldn’t understand what was going on, but I knew my muscles were rigid with anticipation.

“You know he was desperate to come out with me just so he could see you,” said Cam, his eyes finding me again. And this time they pierced me in place, but not with just desire, there was the added accusing look that held me against the wall as if there were hands pressing me back against it. “I only got him to stay by saying he'd made a big enough mess of everything already.”

Unable to hold his gaze when I could feel where he was heading, I let my eyes drop to his sunglasses that I continued to fiddle with. “Was he?” I questioned in a small voice, trying not to give anything away.

“Yeah, said you told him you’d miss him and everything,” answered Cam flatly.

Hearing the edge to his voice that made me feel as if he was accusing me of telling a lie, I met his eyes in a bold flash, mouth hardening into a straight line. “I do,” I informed him.

“He still thinks he’d have a chance with you if he came out here,” continued Cam as his voice hardened. He’d stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans as he stared at me, those creases in his forehead had appeared in a frown as they always did when I found myself with him mad at me for something that I’d done. Odd to think it was usually Logan that caused these moments between us. “Maybe he’s right, since you just came to apologize to me for the kiss that morning and all.”

Swallowing, I tried to lighten the mood that had suddenly dropped to frigid temperatures in the room with a shrug and a tense grin. “How much time do you guys spend talking about me? It’s a wonder you record anything.”

Cam wasn’t about to let up it seemed, because he just kept staring expectantly at me.

And even I couldn’t resist him waiting like that, giving a sigh as I ran a hand through my hair, tugging on it lightly as I sent him a rueful expression. “What was I supposed to tell him?” I asked him, “That I’d just fucked his brother? I know how he feels – I’m not that stupid. What was the point in telling him? I was leaving; it was only going to hurt him.”

“And leading him on is going to end any better?” asked Cam, stepping in towards me.

That was the first time I caught the hint of his temper in his voice that he’d been trying so hard to keep under wraps. I’d known it was there since I’d seen him, but he’d done a brilliant job at pushing it down and out of the way. I suppose it had always been one of my talents to bring out people’s anger in me.

However despite the threatening squaring of shoulders, I was just glaring right back at him, all the sudden clenching his sunglasses tightly in my fist. It was a wonder I didn’t snap them, and I would only be happy to do just that. “I’m not leading him on,” I snapped, “I wasn’t even supposed to see you guys again. We’ve spent all those years without meeting, why would that all the sudden change?”

“I don’t know, Jude,” said he as he took another step, “Why would it?”

Even though his eyes were practically flaming in anger, I didn’t bother to step out of the way of what was sure to be one of destruction if he had his way. In fact, I just lifted a hand, brushing my thumb over his cheek. “It wasn’t supposed to change,” I told him in a quiet voice.

That temper cooled down at the touch, just as my panic had disappeared when I’d caught sight of his eyes. His shoulders slumped, releasing all that anger.

“So I guess you didn’t tell him, then?” I asked carefully. I knew that this could very well get that Harrison temper flying again, but it was something that I needed to know if I was ever going to see Logan again.

Thankfully he didn’t fly off the handle, but his eyes flashed up to mine, scouring my face carefully. “No,” he answered eventually. “What was I supposed to say to him when I saw him at the studio talking about how you’d left? You’d already told him nothing had happened, he’d just think I was lying to try and get back at him.”

“Get back at him for what?” The question was voiced quietly as I ran my hand from his cheek into his dark hair, tangling it at the nape of his neck. I’d already forgotten about how soft it felt against my hand.

“What do you think?” he muttered flatly.

The insinuation had me deflated as I mumbled, “Oh, yeah.”

However the conversation was quickly being forgotten, at least on my part. I wasn’t quite sure how he was feeling, but I did know that his eyes had lowered from my gaze to glance down at my mouth. My whole body felt like an angry exposed nerve as it pulsated.

That was a bit dangerous, even for me.

And that’s why I found myself blurting, “We just finished working on that song you and Logan did back up for.”

“Did you?” he responded, but I noticed that his gaze had lowered again.

Carefully I dropped my hand and tossed the sunglasses to the side before putting both of my hands lightly on his chest as I pushed him back. My actions had started in order to find some distance, but I found myself unconsciously moving with him. Since he was being quite unresisting, I could be gentle as I pushed him lightly back into one of the chairs that Cash and I always occupied in front of the sound board. As he dropped into it, it rolled back an inch, knocking lightly into the board yet neither of us noticed. All the while he continued staring up at me.

“Do you want to hear it?” I asked as I stepped in between his legs.

Hadn’t my intention been to put space in between us?

I never had any follow through when it came to Cam, did I? It was supposed to be a onetime thing, rather a one night thing. When I saw him again the memories weren’t supposed to suffocate me, they were supposed to be a slight memory about that one time in the desert. It was supposed to be fun night to remember, but one that was nothing more than a blip on my radar. However we never did run on a plan did we? Because it definitely hadn’t been my intention to see him any time in the foreseeable future.

Yet here we were.

“I’d love to,” answered Cam in a husky voice without breaking his gaze. Trying to ignore the goosebumps that were running up my skin from where my toes had curled and the electricity racing through my veins, I nodded slowly.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I leaned over him as I reached out for the playback button even as my loose hair fell around us. I didn’t miss the way he breathed in deeply, but I also didn’t have the peace of mind to feel smug that I’d caused that reaction, because I had no control over my impulsions at the moment, let alone his.

As the song started with drums flooding the space, blunt and loud as I wanted them, I began to pull back.

It appeared that wasn’t in the cards, though, because Cam raised his arms, wrapping them around me to rest on the small of my back right above the waistband of my jeans to hold me in place. His hands slipped underneath my shirt, rubbing light circles on the soft skin and his callouses were causing me to grasp both his shoulders, fingers digging in to create little half crescent shapes from my nails while the rough anti-riff started. But he didn’t as much as flinch as he stared up at me unblinking.

How he could have me letting out a shaking breath from his clever fingers on my back was beyond me. He could make the most innocent of touches feel nothing short of wicked, and I was enjoying it far too much.

The song had always been meant to sound sexy with the thrashing drums, trashy guitar and vocals that went between smooth and a raspiness that was supposed to hit people straight in the gut with the added falsettos in the background. However I’d never realized that I’d surpassed my expectations with this song until that moment as my heart thudded along in time with the music.

That spell was broken quite suddenly, though, when the door swung open.

“You’re not allowed to have sex in here and ruin this studio for me too!” exclaimed Cash just as he was slamming it shut behind him.

Jumping like thieves caught in a particularly filthy act when we were quite innocent – though our thoughts might not be so – both Cam and I swivelled about to eye my producer. And it was with an overwhelming amount of disappointment that I forced my hands to unclench, stepping out from between Cam’s legs. The last thing I needed was to be in that position while Cash was in the room; especially with all those warnings he’d given me about the Harrison brothers.

I didn’t feel so pathetic when I noticed Cam quickly crossing his legs. Apparently I wasn’t the only one that was affected by that. And it gave me a swing of my old swagger back as I sent him smug grin.

“On that note,” I began, grabbing the sunglasses from the side where I’d abandoned them before. Only having eyes for Cam, I slipped on the dark wayfarers with all the readiness in the world, asking, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Although I saw him gulp, he nodded, thinking better than to speak over the song.

However Cash wasn’t about to let me go that easy, sending me a warning look that he didn’t even bother to cover up. “Jude, we don’t have that long left in here to mix. We still have work to do tonight.”

I just rolled my eyes, all the sudden energy was bubbling up inside of me and I sent Cam a secret smile before focusing on my producer. “Don’t be a downer, Collins,” I told him as I grabbed my leather jacket from the back as well. “We have plenty of time and it’s not like we’re rushing to some cheap motel room. Cam’s only ever been to LA as a tourist, and it’s my duty as someone who loves it here to show him it’s not as bad as it seems.”

Not bothering to wait for a response, I brushed past him to Cam who still hadn’t spoke. Turning around, I fixed my producer with a playful smile as I grabbed Cam’s hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart,” I told him before pulling Cam with me out the back door.

Cam called a quick goodbye right before the door closed behind us, yet I didn’t give him long to take his bearing before I was dragging him behind me by the hand towards the mouth of the alley. It was only there that I regretfully dropped his hand, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be lagging too far behind me anymore.

If it had been just me, I wouldn’t have cared if the paps saw me holding his hand – I mean, I held all my friends hands. However I also knew that Cam preferred private lives to be as private as he could make them considering his career, something I’d never bothered with but had learned through our many drunken nights together. And I’d already managed to get the spotlight shone on us multiple times during our short relationship; I didn’t need to make it any worse.

Although I did think that him showing up here was far more newsworthy than hand holding. That was all on him, though.

Ignoring the paparazzi as easily as I did who were going mental across the street, Cam hurried forwards a few steps so that we were side by side as we walked down the street, stepping in the shade of palm trees every few steps. “Still feels like it could be the sixties down here,” he mused, looking about.

“That’s the draw,” I assured him, knocking my shoulder lightly against his.

Cam didn’t immediately answer, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my face. There was a reluctance in me to meet the gaze, one I’d felt before but could never understand exactly what it meant. When he was looking at me like that I couldn’t decide if I wanted to throw myself at him or run away. With the traits I’d been born with, I knew that it was far more likely for me to run away, so I was going to try and ignore it.

Pretending that I didn’t notice him looking at me while I strolled purposefully down the street, I dug my pack of cigarettes from my leather jacket. However I was so preoccupied knowing that he was yet to look away that I didn’t even notice my hand shaking when I went to light it.

There came a point when even I, the queen of avoidance, couldn’t ignore him anymore. Sucking in a breath of smoke, I turned my head, meeting his steady gaze with a raised eyebrow. He and his brother had to one day get embarrassed when they were caught staring at people like this, because it was rather disconcerting.

This wasn’t going to be that day, I discovered, since Cam didn’t even bother to glance in the other direction.

“I didn’t hear what in the song when we were recording,” said Cam slowly.

My other eyebrow rose to join the other one in surprise as I blew out the breath, running my nail along the butt of the cigarette. “You didn’t like it?” I questioned, my mind already beginning to race.

How did this even happen? I’d never cared what people said of my music beyond my band and Cash, because I knew everyone had different tastes that lead them in different directions. I knew that not everyone could like my music – though I’d prefer if they did. Over the years countless people had told me that they didn’t like a song or thought I was terrible, it was just something that came along with being a musician.

Yet Cam implied the slightest disagreement with the way the song sounded and I was suddenly second guessing myself.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” added Cam quickly before my thoughts could race out of control, clearly catching the stricken look on my face. His words had me letting out a sigh, finding it safe to raise the smoke to my lips again.

“I just would have never thought you’d take it to that place,” he continued in explanation. “It’s brilliant, darling, absolutely brilliant; sexy, daring, smart, trashy and classy all in the same breath. And I don’t understand what has to go on in your head to take you to that place. I thought I’d be able to, but I didn’t even consider that it might sound that way.”

One thing I’d never been since I’d been seventeen years old was a humble person, and now I found myself peering down at the flaming end of my smoke in the face of a compliment. I didn’t even know how to respond, so I just flicked the ash off. “Well, Cash does deserve half of the credit for what it sounds like, he is the producer.”

It appeared he wasn’t going to accept me playing it off so lightly, because Cam edged closer so our sides were pressed together as we walked down the road. And I had to remind myself what walking meant.

One foot in front of the other, then repeat, right?

“He deserves some of it, sure, but you’re the heart and soul, aren’t you?” he pointed out rhetorically. “You wrote the song, you knew what you wanted it to sound like, you played the guitar, you thought of the back-up, you sang it and brought it to life. It’s all you.”

Before he could continue, I quickly hopped a step ahead of him, walking backwards so I could raise the cigarette to his lips. At least that got him to be quiet for a moment, and I was supremely thankful for the fact because I never wanted to suffer the indignity of blushing. Who was I, Sarah?

I was slightly distracted as the tips of my fingers brushed against his lips, but I gathered myself up quite quickly.

Letting the breath out so that smoke billowed between us, Cam eyed me closely before saying, “You really are brilliant, aren’t you?”

And what could a girl say to that?

Nothing at all that I could think of that wouldn’t make me seem like a fool, so I just gave a shrug, turning back around as I hauled in another breath. It was sad that sucking smoke into my lungs was preferable to taking a compliment, but I’d always been good at the former and terrible at the latter so here we were.

For the first while I just took him down the adjoining streets, not only showing him parts of LA he’d never seen, but also reminding myself why I’d used to love this town. After Josh I’d moved away, even though my band had still been residing here, and I’d always associated the place with him. Seeing it with Cam this time made it feel different, though, but that might have been due to all the time that had passed since I’d lived here with Josh. At least that’s what I told myself.

And as always, I found myself taking him down the dirtier back streets, not the glossy high ones that we’d been at during the party. It had never been Beverly Hills for me, and I doubted I’d ever be up there. Even if I’d managed to jump in the class ladder to the wealth, I always seemed to find myself down in the grungy back alleys.

Unsurprisingly it wasn’t too long until a crowd of paparazzi finally dialled into our location once and for all, and I yanked us into the closest bar that I could find.

I kept my mouth shut that it was one Josh and I used to frequent years before. It wasn’t the same, though, and I wasn’t sure if that comforted me or not. Back then it used to be so edgy and cool, and all the sudden it felt like that there was a coat of corporate shining everything around us. The bathrooms were a lot cleaner than they used to be, so that was a comfort. But I wasn’t spending time in there on my knees like I had back then so it really didn’t make that much of a difference to me.

The music was definitely not as good as it used to be, but with the swarm of press outside, I figured we were better off here than anywhere else. I even texted Cash, telling him where we’d ended up in case he wanted to come for a drink. I even called him old man in the message, trying to goad him into coming out with us.

However that was proved pointless, because we were only on our second drink of the night, hiding out in the back of the club when Cam lit a cigarette. It was like a swarm had descended upon us, well, more him. And he was hauled quite unceremoniously out of the bar, though thankfully through to the back entrance so we weren’t at the mercy of the press.

As we stood in the grimy back alley, I had a hard time controlling my laughter to the point of not even trying anymore.

It had been a long time since I’d gotten kicked out of anywhere.

Of course it would happen with a Harrison brother, even for something as innocuous as a cigarette. Cam was still a bit in shock, not having expected to practically be dragged out of our darkened booth in something just short of a headlock. At that moment he didn’t look like some dangerous rock star, he just looked confused with his hair standing on end from all the struggling, which only succeeded in making me laugh harder.

I considered it a bit of a gift to be kicked out, honestly. The whole club had been nothing short of boring, its only redeeming feature had been the fact that Cam was there with me. It meant we got away from the music, but also it let us give the paps the slip as they thought we were still inside causing a ruckus. Careful to avoid them, I’d gripped Cam’s hand and tugged him the opposite direction, heading in the opposite direction.

It wasn’t long until we’d found a bar I’d never seen before, hidden on a darkened corner with a rather bland door.

I almost let a sigh of relief when we’d walked inside, already feeling more relaxed than the place before and not only because it had no connections to Josh. There was music pumping through the building, giving off the perfect welcome since it was Tame Impala’s Be Above It thumping about us. There were people dancing in front of an empty stage in the dimly lit club, and around them were tables until it reached the booths that lined the walls.

It only took us walking into the bar before we were recognized, but I couldn’t find myself surprised since this seemed just like the place where our music should be played. Thankfully these weren’t the shrilly screaming sorts, instead the type that asked for a photograph or autograph without too much screeching. In fact, we’d already made acquaintances with a few by the time we’d got our first drinks.

The gaping mouths of the people around us didn’t last long, and we found ourselves intermingling without too much difficulty. Unlike the last club, this was a place where we didn’t have to hide in the back corner.

I did get interested and peeked through the doors that lead to a room next door, finding that the other half was nothing short of a strip club.

For the most part we stuck to the dancing part of it.

While Cam sat, chatting away to some people that between his accent and the volume of the music couldn’t understand a word he was saying, I couldn’t resist the urge to head to dance with a few of the people we’d joined. It wasn’t just because of the urge to dance became very strong after the amount of alcohol I’d put into my body, but the Foster The People song that came on made it impossible for me to sit.

I was singing along, my voice lost in the texture that came with volume along with the other people singing. “Well, I see you standing there like a rabid dog. And you got those crying eyes. It makes me wanna surrender and wrap you in my arms. You know I try to live without regrets. Always looking forward and not looking back. But I tend to leave a trail of death while I’m moving ahead. And so I’m stepping away.”

In the midst of the sweaty bodies and the girls I’d raced up with, I couldn’t help that my eyes searched out Cam through the crowd even as I continued dancing through the chorus. I finally found him just as I was singing my way through the chorus, feeling a sheen of sweat beginning on my forehead. “… It feels like, feels like coming of age.”

He was taking a drink from his new beer bottle, and all those people around him were laughing and shouting away, but he was just looking at me through the crowd. Why did it feel like I could always find him that easily, and know he would be looking back at me?

And I couldn’t tear my eyes away as I sang the next verse, “And when my fear pulls me out to sea. And the stars are hidden by my pride and my enemies. I seem to hurt the people that care the most. Just like an animal I protect my pride. When I’m too bruised to fight. And even when I’m wrong I tend to think I’m right.

“When I’m bored of the game,” I sang, running my hands through my hair and pulling it away from my sweaty forehead, “And too tired to rage.”

All I wanted to do was drag him with me to the most private place we could find in a place like this when he was looking at me so unwaveringly. My whole body was pulsing and it wasn’t just because of the music. It really was amazing what he could do.

But not only had I promised myself that I would try to be slightly more discreet, if only for his benefit, hadn’t I promised myself that I wouldn’t do this?

We could be friends; just maybe we could do it. We could be the anomaly, couldn’t we? I mean, neither of us was particularly normal. I wasn’t going to go back on my guidelines, not this time and not even for him. There was a reason I’d set them up, because I never wanted to go through what Josh had done to me again. I’d been so careful over the years, everything I’d done had meant absolutely nothing and that was just the way I liked it.

And with Cam, whether I wanted to admit it or not, it meant something more than I could give to him or anyone for that matter. I was a mess, and I always would be, the last thing I should be doing is letting my mess become someone else’s. I couldn’t get involved with another musician; look how it had ended the first time.

Yet then he’d be looking at me and I’d forget all about my reservations and worries, because there was no one I’d ever wanted more.

I stayed steady, constantly reminding myself why I was keeping my distance and keeping my attention on everyone else that I possibly could. This time when Cam lit a smoke it didn’t get us kicked out, which I was thankful for since I actually liked this place. I had my doubts that I’d ever find it again, though; we’d been lost when we’d bashed in here.

All the work I’d done to keep myself separated on both a physical and emotional level from Cam proved useless the moment the gritty but definitely sexy groove that came from Queens Of The Stone Age in the form of If I Had A Tail.

The moment the song had started I’d found my skin crawling in goosebumps knowing what was coming, let alone when Cam held up the cigarette to my lips, filling in all that careful space I’d created. And with my eyes fixed on his, I sucked in a breath, never blinking as my lips brushed against his fingers this time.

“… I’m machine, I’m obsolete, In the land of the free lobotomy,” sang Josh Homme around us, “I wanna suck, I wanna lick. I want to grind and I want to spit. Tears of pleasure, Tears of pain, They trickle down your face the same.”

My breath that I let out was shaky, filling the almost inexistent space between us with smoke.

“Do you want to get out of here?” asked Cam.

Giving a slight laugh in the back of my throat, I quickly nodded before we both stood up in agreement. Wishing hasty goodbyes to the friends we’d made but would most likely never meet again, we hurried out of the club, leaving it behind without a glance. All that work I’d put into keeping it at one night was gone, and I’d known it before he’d even asked if I wanted to leave, but he was simply irresistible to me.

We’d only traced our steps back to the last back alley we’d cut through trying to make sure the paps couldn’t follow when Cam sucked in the last breath of the cigarette, flicking away the butt.

And that was when I couldn’t take the tension anymore. Placing my hands on his cheeks, I yanked him towards me, pulling myself up to my tip toes to meet his lips evenly. The breath he’d hauled in from the smoke was filling my lungs almost immediately as Cam got a hand tangled in my hair, moving backwards until my back hit the building behind us hard enough to knock all the wind from my body, but neither of us cared. He tasted of beer, gin, and cigarettes and I’d never tasted anything more intoxicating in my life.

*

The next morning I woke up with a groan leaving my lips, not quite willing to open my eyes. It didn’t take long for the hazy memories of the night to come through to me, and a lazy grin erupted itself on my mouth.

However when I went to went to huddle closer to the natural heat source that was Cam Harrison, I almost rolled off the other side of the bed.

Now I had to open my eyes, suspiciously peering at the white sheets on the empty side of my bed.

A glance around found me a much better view, though, and I dropped my head back against the pillows, watching quite contently. With the large window and its similar white curtains letting in a stream of light, I watched Cam’s silhouette as he sadly pulled his dirty shirt from yesterday over his head and covering that back that long, smooth back.

It really was a pity to cover something like that up.

And it was even worse when he tugged on his jeans over the fine view I’d had of his ass.

Only then did I decide it was time to speak up, though I didn’t lift my head off the pillow, feeling far too languid to move for much. “So is it your turn to take off before I wake up?” I questioned in my slightly rough morning voice, made all the worse from the amount of noise I’d been making all night. It sounded like it did the morning after a concert.

Hearing my voice, Cam spun around, but I wasn’t greeted by a guilty look, instead I got quite the smile. Apparently all the exercise we’d had last night had burnt away the alcohol in our blood stream, making us almost criminally cheerful after a night spent drinking away. “Actually I was going to go get breakfast and make a phone call,” replied Cam as he stepped up to the edge of the bed.

Apparently he was one of the few things that could get me to move right now as I sat up, letting the blanket fall away without a care. I curled my hands around his neck as he kissed me with far too much enthusiasm for this early in the morning, already making me forget about how lazy I’d felt just moments before.

Finally it was him that pulled away, letting me gasp for a breath that I hadn’t been given.

Only then did I connect the fact that he tasted like mint, just like my toothpaste that was in the bathroom. On the other hand I must still have the grungy aftermath of last night littering my mouth, but if he wasn’t going to complain, neither was I. He didn’t seem to mind much as he pushed my hair out of my face while I ran the pads of my thumbs up the side of his neck, and enjoying the fact he shivered from just that a bit too much.

“Morning, darling,” he greeted in that glorious deep voice of his.

Although I gave my head a slight shake, it was with a broad smile that I answered, “Good morning.”

Before he could say anything else, I’d bunched my hand in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down onto the bed with me. With my hands on his shoulders, I shoved him onto his back as I swung my leg over his waist, straddling him in one smooth move.

Apparently someone was already ready.

When I raised an eyebrow at him, Cam just gave a laugh.

I put a quick halt to that, making the sound catch in his face and change into a groan that sent a jolt through my body when I leaned down, using my lips, teeth and tongue in a perfect melody on his neck. His fingers quickly clenched into my thighs deeply, leaving red marks to match the ones I already had.

“I really do have to make that phone call,” he told me, his voice having already become rasping but his hands didn’t move.

“Do you?” I murmured in his ear as I slipped my hand under his shirt.

“Fuck,” he groaned before rolling us over and bracing his forearms against the mattress beside my head. With all his talk about this phone call, he still wasn’t pulling away; in fact I could feel every part of him at the moment.

Leaning his forehead against mine, Cam informed me, “I have to call Logan right away.”

Making an interested noise in the back of my throat, I let my hand travel up to his shoulder, looking at the marks I’d caused from my nails digging into his skin. “What’s going on?” I asked as I focused back on him above me, though I distracted him quite severely by wrapping my legs around his waist.

“I got the official phone call from our tour manager, the opening band pulled,” said Cam with closed eyes. “Apparently they got an offer to open three gigs for Foals instead.”

“Well, Logan did threaten to beat the kid up,” I pointed out reasonably.

Apparently he didn’t need to be reminded of that fact, because he sent me an unamused expression to which I only grinned. With a sigh, Cam rolled off of me, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah, he did and now we have a tour that’s starting in two weeks and no one to open for it, just a fucking idiot to sing.”

Propping myself up on my elbow, I looked down at him sympathetically. I’d never been the one that cleaned up the messes; I was always the one that created them so I couldn’t even understand what was running through his head right now. Although I’d never scared my opening band so badly that they didn’t want to do a tour that would probably huge for their careers.

“Someone will want to do it,” I assured him, “At risk of hurting my ego, you guys are The Bends. People would give up limbs to open for you.”

At my words, Cam opened one eye, peering up at me.

However the considering expression I was fixed with lasted a bit too long for my liking.

“What?” I questioned, crinkling my nose in confusion.

“Would you?” he asked.

Blankly, I said, “Would I what?”

“Open for us.”

I stared at him for a long moment, before I let out a laugh. “Jesus fuck,” I chuckled, brushing my hair away from my eyes as I dropped onto my back at the thought. “Would I open for The Bends? Can you honestly see me opening a concert for anyone who isn’t The Rolling Stones or Bruce Springsteen anymore?”

However Cam didn’t join in on my laughter as I’d expected, instead he rolled back over top of me and I was wondering if he did it just so I couldn’t bolt away. And at the serious look, all my joking died away.

“Oh shit,” I muttered, “Are you actually serious?”

“Why not?” he asked as his eyes scoured my face for a different answer than I’d already given him. “You’re just putting out your first solo album,” he reminded me, “You wouldn’t exactly start out headlining Shea Stadium would you?”

“Shea Stadium doesn’t exist anymore,” I informed him, but still incredulous that we were even having this conversation, added “I wasn’t supposed to tour, Cam. This album was pretty much made to kill the boredom while my band becomes domestic.”

“Why can’t you tour?” Cam pestered, “You’ve made an exceptional album. You can’t just leave it there.”

Still disbelieving, I opened my mouth, but not a sound came out as I was staring up at him.

- and, yes, it is too much to ask for me to update on the ninth. But I will dedicate this to you for an early birthday present @VidushiLohia. I hope you have a brilliant birthday.

No Logan this chapter, but still... thoughts lol?

Song on the side is Queens Of The Stone Age's If I Had A Tail, which coincidently has Dave Grohl drumming along with Alex Turner in for vocals, and a bunch of other people -