FOUR

Lexi 

‘THAT WAS AMAZING!’ 

‘Fucking love his voice.’ 

‘Wanna grab some pizza on the way home?’ 

‘Have you finished your drink?’ 

The house lights are up and the music has finished, but the dispersing crowd is almost as loud as No Reckless were. The three of us—Sam found us in the crowd just before the first song—pause to wait for the noise to die down just a little.

‘Well, that was fun,’ Sam says eventually. ‘They were pretty good! I’ve really got to get home though. Nine o’clock anatomy lecture in the morning.’ 

‘Sure,’ says Cerys, smiling, ‘I’ll see you for labs tomorrow afternoon.’ It’s the most she’s said since the outburst backstage. 

Sam disappears into the last of the crowd and I wonder if I should ask Cerys about what happened earlier.

‘Hey,’ Jake’s voice from behind causes us both to turn around. ‘You coming?’ 

Cerys narrows her eyes at him then walks straight past him, backstage.

He looks at me for a moment and I can see the guilt on his face.

He knows he screwed up earlier.

He turns to follow her and, unsure what else to do, I follow too.

Backstage is a bit louder than earlier, and the roadies are already packing things up. Didn’t realise things moved so fast after a gig.

Cerys is already occupied with Jake, although looking no more happy than before. Can’t see Gethin anywhere, and the only other person here who I’ve ever actually spoken to is Luc, but he’s busy packing things up with Harry and some other guys.

Earlier he was just a little undone. Messy. Not that I got a good look, being so stupidly starstruck. The initial nerves seem to have worn off now, though.

I think.

Post-drumming, Luc is a hot mess. In the best way.

‘Lexi!’ I don’t realise I’m staring until Jake yells my name, causing Luc to look up, his eyes meeting mine. 

Oh God.

Too late, I look away.

OK, maybe I am still just a teensy bit starstruck.

‘Jake!’ Cerys says. She’s still pissed with him. And I’m still not sure what happened. 

‘Lexi,’ Jake says, walking over, Cerys following. ‘Are you OK to get home?’ 

‘Uh, yeah.’ 

‘Lexi,’ Cerys says, her voice soft, ‘we’re on the opposite side of town.’ 

‘It’s not that far,’ I say. 

‘Where do you live?’ Luc. He walks towards us. As he gets closer I can see the sheen of sweat on his skin. 

Even his hair looks kind of damp.

Really want to touch it.

‘Christchurch,’ Cerys says. 

‘Oh, I know. Sort of.’ Luc looks at me. ‘I can take you home, if you don’t mind waiting for me to pack up?’ 

I definitely don’t mind.

‘It’s no problem, we can take her,’ Jake says. 

What?

‘No!’ Shit. Didn’t mean to be so forceful. ‘I mean,’ I say, glancing at Luc before looking at Cerys, ‘I’m OK to wait. You guys go. Don’t want to keep you.’ 

‘Are you sure?’ says Cerys. 

‘Yes.’ I turn back to Luc. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘No problem.’ He goes back to packing up amps and things with way too many wires attached. 

‘OK,’ Cerys says slowly, watching Luc before looking at me again. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’ 

‘Yeah, have fun.’ My stomach is already butterflies at the thought of being on my own with Luc Hall. 

‘We’ll see,’ she says in a low voice with a slightly raised eyebrow before disappearing with Jake down the hallway we came in through earlier. 

‘You might want these,’ Harry Turner, No Reckless bassist, says, tossing some keys in Luc’s direction. Luc catches them and shoves them in his pocket. 

‘You off?’ Luc stands up straight. 

‘Yeah, if that’s cool with you?’ He glances over at me. ‘Felicity’s out front.’ 

Another conquest, presumably.

‘Sure.’ Luc says. ‘I’ve got Lexi to keep me company.’ He grins at me. 

Luc Hall is grinning at me.

Sam is so right about these guys. Need to keep my guard up.

‘Awesome. Later.’ Harry sort of nods in my direction as he exits in the direction of the stage. 

Not that Luc sees me that way, I’m sure. He’s just being nice. Polite. Helping Jake out.

‘You want to grab a seat?’ Luc says. ‘There are chairs over there.’ He points in the direction of some well-worn sofas and armchairs. 

‘I’m OK,’ I say. Really I just want to be close enough to appreciate the view while he’s packing up, and those admittedly comfortable-looking chairs are further away from him than where I currently stand. 

He shrugs. ‘OK.’

There are just a few of us left. Me, Luc, some roadies carrying the drum kit in from the stage in pieces, and two people who presumably work at Tram House.

Luc examines the drums before handing them to roadies. ‘Van,’ he says to them. One drum gets tossed to the side.

‘Bin?’ someone asks. 

‘It’s torn. I’ll just replace the skin,’ Luc says. 

‘Torn?’ I ask, stepping forward slightly. 

Luc looks at me, pausing before beckoning me over. ‘Yeah, come see.’

I walk forward, towards the mess of equipment, and he picks up the drum.

‘It’s a snare drum. See,’ he says, lifting a flap of drum skin to show the tear. 

‘Do they always tear?’ I ask. 

‘Not every time. Eventually though. Breakables.’ 

‘Breakables?’ 

‘The parts of a drum kit that are most prone to breaking.’ 

‘Oh.’ My cheeks blush. Obviously drums break. They’re constantly being beaten. 

‘These can go, too. Look.’ He easily snaps a drumstick with his bare hands. ‘They get worn down after a few shows. Sometimes in the middle of a gig.’ 

‘That seems inconvenient.’ Just state the obvious, Lexi. Well done. 

‘Yeah,’ he says, not even noticing how stupid I sound. Or maybe he does notice but just chooses not to show it. I’m not sure which would be better. 

He hands a returning roadie some cymbals and starts folding down the drum kit stands.

‘Is it expensive? Replacing all this stuff, I mean.’ Not that it matters when you’re rich and famous. 

‘A bit,’ he says, finishing with the stands and handing them to another roadie. He looks at me with piercing blue eyes. ‘But you don’t mind when it’s something you love, you know?’ 

I nod, but I don’t really know. Like most people, I’ve never been in a position to just pay for whatever I want, no matter how much I may love it.

But that wouldn’t make for polite conversation.

‘Ready?’ Luc says, tossing the broken drumsticks into a bin. 

‘Ready?’ 

‘To go.’ 

I realise we’re alone. ‘Oh. Yeah. Yes.’

He laughs. ‘OK. C’mon then.’ He nods towards the back exit—follow me—and starts walking. 

For a moment I don’t move, watching his body from behind. Wide shoulders. His delts peek out from under his short sleeves. The back of his t-shirt is still damp.

‘Does drumming always do that to you?’ I ask.

‘Sorry?’ he says, stopping to turn back and look at me. ‘Do what?’

‘The, uh, sweating. Is it always like that?’ This is way too personal a question and I’m regretting it already.

He looks down at his t-shirt and gently chuckles, to himself presumably. ‘Yeah. Need a lot of stamina to be a drummer, especially in this band.’ As he looks back up at me, a lock of blond hair falls in front of his eyes. ‘Although,’ he continues, fixing his eyes on mine, ‘some girls seem to find it pretty hot.’

Oh. God. I swallow, going for subtle but probably achieving painfully obvious instead.

He notices and raises an eyebrow as half a smile forms on his lips.

Then he lowers his voice. ‘So it’s not all bad.’ His gaze traces the length of my body and I’m not sure how to respond.

It’s hard to know what to say when it feels like you’re being undressed.

Harder still when you think you might actually like it.

Luc brings his gaze up to meet mine again and nods again towards the exit, the moment over. This time I follow.

He opens the door and we walk outside into the fresh late night air.

‘Van’s just over here,’ he says, leading us to a black van spray-painted to the hilt.

While Luc thanks the roadies finishing up at the back of the van, I look at the artwork.

Because that’s what it is.

Art.

The sun has long since set, but there’s enough street light for me to see that the whole thing is covered in intricate graffiti of calaveras and calacas, the decorative skulls and skeletons associated with Mexico’s Day of the Dead festival. They’re multi-coloured and surrounded by flowers and flashes of colour. At first glance they all look roughly the same, but looking closer it’s clear that each one is unique.

‘What do you think?’ asks Luc, slamming the back doors of the van and walking over to me, the crunch of gravel beneath his feet.

‘The graffiti?’

‘Uh huh.’ He stands next to me, crossing his arms across his chest.

‘Why skulls?’ 

He shrugs. ‘Harry,’ he says, like it’s an answer. He walks over to the passenger door and opens it for me. As I approach, he holds out his hand to help me in and, surprisingly, I feel myself bristle in response.

I don’t need his help.

Ignoring his hand, I climb in with ease.

He raises an eyebrow.

‘Long legs,’ I say, like it’s an explanation, before closing the door myself. 

Seconds later he’s in the driver’s seat next to me, starting the engine. ‘You’ll have to direct me,’ he says, his voice softer now it’s just the two of us in this small space.

‘I live in Christchurch.’ 

‘Yeah, I’m not from ‘round here.’ He reverses the van. ‘Going to need a bit more than that.’ 

‘You said you knew.’ 

‘I said I sort of knew. Did you really want to be stuck in a car with those two while they’re not speaking?’ 

‘Guess not,’ I say. 

We approach the car park exit.

‘Which way?’ he asks. 

‘Left.’ 

We pull out onto the road. It’s practically deserted compared to when I arrived with Cerys earlier.

‘So,’ he says slowly, ‘you’re a biology student?’ 

‘Yeah.’ I squeeze my fingers, not knowing what to do with my hands. 

‘Why?’ 

Why? What kind of question is that?

‘I…because…I’m not sure.’ Why did I choose biology? 

He laughs as we approach a junction. ‘You must have had a reason. Which way?’

‘Uh, straight on. And I don’t know. It’s a sensible, well-respected subject. I like it.’ I don’t like this conversation. ‘So what’s up with Jake?’ The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Oh well, I can at least get more information for Cerys. 

‘Jake?’ Luc frowns then shakes his head. ‘You mean earlier?’ 

‘No, just in general.’ I don’t know why I’m being difficult. It’s like a complete turnaround from earlier, when I could barely look him in the face. 

Luc laughs again. ‘Fuck knows. First time I’ve ever even known him to have a girlfriend.’

‘But he said…’ 

Luc waves his hand dismissively. ‘That’s just Jake.’

‘Oh.’ 

‘And what about you, Alexis?’ he says. 

Can’t decide if I like or hate the way he keeps saying my name like that. Is he mocking it or being serious?

‘Lexi.’ I correct him. 

‘OK. Lexi.’ He grins, checking the rearview mirror. Clearly it’s the former. ‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ 

‘I’m sorry?’ 

‘Or do you not have one?’ We slow before coming to a gentle stop at a red light. ‘Straight on?’ 

‘Left,’ I say, ignoring the first question. 

He looks at me, suddenly serious. ‘And the boyfriend?’

Somehow I look him straight in the eye. ‘That’s none of your business, Lucas.’ 

He bursts out laughing and I have to suppress a smug grin.

The lights change and we start moving again. ‘You weren’t so confident earlier,’ he says.

‘You’re not so chatty in your interviews,’ I respond, the speed of my comeback taking me by surprise. 

He raises an eyebrow as we turn the corner. ‘You follow the band?’

Balls. Revealed too much.

‘Or just me?’ he says, glancing over at me. 

I open my mouth to respond but I have no idea what to say.

And I can feel my face blushing.

Please let the darkness hide it.

But it’s no use, and his smile widens. It’s actually beautiful, too. The overconfident bastard.

I cross my arms in defiance and look away from him, out the passenger door window.

We drive in silence for a bit, apart from the few directions I give him, and all too soon we’re pulling up outside the flat I share with Cerys and Mylo.

‘Thanks for the lift,’ I say, opening the door immediately as we come to a stop. Just want to get away from the shame of practically admitting I have a crush on Luc Hall from No Reckless to Luc Hall from No Reckless. 

‘Whoa, slow down,’ he says. 

I pause and turn, expecting to see him looking oh-so-pleased with himself. Instead he’s got his phone out and is tapping something into it.

‘I’m going to need your number,’ he says, looking up at me. ‘Hand me your phone.’ 

‘Why?’ I say the word slowly, narrowing my eyes at him. 

‘Well, in case Jake looks like he’s going to mess things up with your friend. Someone’s got to save him from himself.’ 

I raise my eyebrow. I’m not buying this, but I hand over my phone anyway.

He takes it and types something into his own phone. Mine vibrates as he hands it back to me.

‘I’ve sent you a text.’ 

‘Right.’ I unbuckle my belt and slip out of the van. 

‘See you around, Alexis,’ he says, grinning. 

‘Lexi!’ I correct him, closing the door. I wait for the sound of the van pulling away before checking my phone. 

His text is visible on the home screen.

And, you know, in case you change your mind about whether you’ve got a boyfriend.

I’m not even sure what that means, but I feel a rush of excitement nonetheless.

Stupid sexy drummer boy.