Midnight Blue

Page 48

We? Since when were they a ‘we’? He was barely a fucking ‘he,’ acting like a pussy every turn of the way.

Stardust sniffed and pulled away, wiping the tears on her face with the back of her hand. “It’s like ever since we lost our parents he’s just this crazy, volatile person. Who does that, Luc? Who does what he did tonight?”

“Your brother is hurting,” Lucas said, and something inside me twisted like barbwire. Her brother sounded a lot like me. Maybe it was premature to think she’d get attached to me. Why would she want another knobhead to stress about?

“Sometimes I think I should just hand in my resignation and go back. Now’s not the time to be away from home.”

“Stay.” He squeezed her palm. “The money you make will be able to help your family more than any pep talk you could give Craig, and we both know that.”

I wanted so badly to push the door open on them, waltz in, yank her up, and escort her outside before I beat him senseless. In fact, the only reason why I hadn’t done that was because Stardust seemed genuinely distressed, and for the first time in forever I allowed someone else to steal a small slice of the limelight and have it their way.

She didn’t need me; she needed him.

Did it make me want to kill him? Yes.

Did it make it any less true? No.

Anyway, that’s the short story of how I ended up ruining Lucas’ drum set.

I was six songs into the gig when I turned to take a breather from looking at all the faceless faces below me. I caught Waitrose glancing sideways and smiling at someone. At the someone I’d fingered twenty-four hours ago. That had done it. I’d walked over and broken his drums, admiring the fact I’d held back from yanking out the stand and smacking him with it. Baby steps, right?

“What the fuck!” He’d jumped up.

“The fuck is you’re fired,” I’d said, already storming backstage. “And what a fucking fuck that is indeed, my friend.”

I was now chasing Indie. Chasing her. As in, spotting her and going after her. Perhaps it was not my finest hour, but it made sense to do it at the time. She turned around and power walked toward the main dressing room, probably to Blake, most likely to make sure I didn’t kill her or anything. I grabbed the tip of her flared black dress and yanked her into my chest. She gasped, falling into my body, and to her horror—my erection.

“I get that you’re going through shit, Stardust. We all are. That’s the nature of being born into this chaos called life. But this is getting a little old, and not so fun anymore. So I’ve decided to fire Lucas, just to make sure you don’t run off to him next time your brother pisses you off. Where’s my thank you for that, huh? We both know it should’ve been you I gave the boot to.”

She turned around, and my heart had a hard-on at the prospect of how she was going to react. Not one to disappoint, Indie’s cheeks blazed red as she raised her hand and, instead of slapping me, pushed me with every ounce of power in her, slamming my back against the wall.

“You don’t have to fire me, because I quit,” she announced, her voice pitching high. Just then, Blake appeared from my dressing room, looking ready to admit himself to the ER with a severe heart attack.

“You stormed off the stage?” He looked so wired I thought he was going to explode. A drop of saliva decorated his chin. He looked rabid. I kept stalking behind Stardust, who was still running away from the scene, even though there was nowhere for her to go. She couldn’t leave the stadium without us. Blake followed both of us. Cirque de stupid . And, of course, I was the leading clown.

“I fired Waitrose, too.”

At least he had the courtesy not to ask me why. The answer was obvious, and he knew it, because he was there to talk me off the ledge every time I thought of throwing Lucas out of my life. I followed Indie until she was faced with the end of the hallway and had nowhere else to go. She turned around, narrowing her eyes at me and plastering her back to the door, clinging into her personal space.

“What do you want from me, Alex?”

Everything. I want everything, and then all the things you’ve already given away to other people. I want them back, too.

“Don’t play coy.” I grabbed her wrists when she tried pushing me off again, but she didn’t really mean it—I know it sounds creepy, but it was true—her hips bucked forward, and her breath was fast and husky. “It’s gig night, and I just fucked up royally. We have work to do tonight, Stardust.”

She threw her head back and laughed, the voice she was producing so sardonic I barely recognized it as hers. “Work? Your whole tour is crumbling. You fired your drummer, your babysitter quit, and you walked off the stage.”

And hid a bottle of champagne.

And began messing with you only because Waitrose showed the slightest interest.

The list was longer and acutely embarrassing. “You can’t quit.”

“Why?”

“Because you need the money too much, and I need you too much.” What was I saying? What was I doing? I thought I heard Blake gasp, and I couldn’t even blame him. I hadn’t subconsciously drunk that bottle of champagne and then blacked it out, had I?

Stardust took a step toward me and cracked a smile, with teeth and all, and I finally saw her for who she really was. A cunning pixie, a thief of hearts. She was shy and reserved, but she had power now, and she knew it. It made our game so much more interesting.

“I’ll stay for the money, but I won’t help you anymore. What are you going to do to me? You can’t force me to talk to you. All I signed up for is watching you.”

“Oh, Stardust.” I thrust my face into hers, laughing. This was where I thrived. In our cruel banter. “You have no idea what I can do to you, but you’re sure as hell about to find out.”

Jenna: Has Blake been fooling around on the tour?

Indie: Does Alex usually fool around on tours?

Hudson: Ladies. I’M HERE FOR THIS.

Jenna: Don’t mind Hudson. He can solely communicate with you using offensive GIFs.

Hudson: Not true.

Hudson: Okay, a little true.

Jenna: Alex is…complicated. He’s mostly ambivalent toward women. He’d engage in one-night stands occasionally, but not as often as one might think. The only woman he ever talks about is Fallon, and even that is drenched in negativity. Your turn.

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