“Guitar’s so fucking stupid, anyway.”
“Then it should be perfect for you.”
Tarek’s eyes narrow. I’m not normally this insulting to my fellow band members. We’re all in this together, etcetera, etcetera. But I have been trying to help Tarek read music since last year, and at most he can play “Smoke on the Water”... in a different key from normal.
“What’s the big deal, anyway? Maybe I don’t want to learn it.”
Quietly, I murmur, “I am trying to help you land on your feet when — if — Royal Element implodes. If you can understand music, you’ll be able to write music. If you can write music, you can build a long-term career at this.”
Leon glances over at me, eyebrows furrowing. Shit. I was probably too loud.
“Why would we implode? Chicks love us.”
“Chicks loved NSYNC and the Backstreet Boys,” I say tiredly. “Boy bands aren’t built to last.”
“But someone’s got to be a Timberlake figure,” he says optimistically.
It won’t be you, I think dismally to myself.
Leon wanders over to us, as I knew he would. Fucking Tarek can’t hush his mouth. I glare up at Leon. “Yes?”
There’s a strange sort of swagger to him that makes me wonder if his earlier threat about going to see Kat was true — maybe he did get something “extra” on the side.
“Music industry preppers, huh?”
I shrug. “It’s only wise. Widen your skillset to be worth more.”
“Yes, today’s marketplace of neo-liberal capitalism is an unforgiving climate for the unprepared band member,” Leon says in a mocking tone. Tarek looks as though he understood about two words. I understood it as him throwing down some sort of gauntlet at me.
“How was your meeting with MCM’s spokesperson?” I ask, cordial as fuck.
Leon colors. So he did do something with her, after all.
I laugh. “All of you being with her. I mean, yes, kudos on showing MCM the middle finger—”
“It wasn’t like that,” Leon snaps. He clamps his mouth shut, as though he’s revealed too much.
Feelings? Noooo... Is that what this is?
I watch behind Leon as Conor opens the door to the room. He glances at me, Tarek and Leon in the corner, and shrugs.
There’s a soft knock on the door and I see Kat tiptoeing in with her camera. She points it straight at us.
Leon, however, hasn’t noticed.
“Careful,” I murmur to Leon, the hint of a smirk spreading across my face. “You wouldn’t want to develop emotions for our spy, now, would you? Not when you’re already under MCM’s thumb.”
His face is bright red, like someone’s slapped him. He looks like he’s debating with himself.
“What were you doing to her?” I whisper, taunting him. “Kissing her? Undressing her? Fucking her?”
“You said you didn’t believe that spy crap,” he spits.
I shrug. “I keep my options open. I haven’t leapt into her bed yet, unlike you guys.”
“What are you saying? You’re going to tell MCM about us?”
Tarek stares at me with wide eyes and something in my chest hurts. “No,” I say, looking Leon in the eye. “Just warning you to stay away. It might be in the band’s best interests, that’s all.”
“Oh, enough with the cryptic bullshit,” Tarek whines, dropping to the sofa bed beside me. It’s almost enough to make me reconsider the plan forming in my mind — but not quite.
Leon has definitely had enough. His fists are clenching by his sides and anger is blazing across his frowning face. I’ve never seen him lose his cool with me before, but I guess there’s something about having your — lover? — insulted that really does it for even the most placid people.
“I’m warning you,” he snaps.
I laugh. “Why? I’m trying to help you. Just because you’d rather fuck someone who’s been with us less than a week than see sense from your fellow band member of nearly three years. I mean, I guess it must be difficult going so long without sex—”
It’s enough. Leon belts me across the face, a sound that echoes around the room until all I’m hearing is the slap of flesh against flesh. I grin up at him, tasting blood. He looks horrified.
“Oh my God,” says Kat, and when Leon turns around, the shock on his face is exquisite. She rushes forward, camera still in hand. Is she filming? She better be filming.
“Help,” I croak down the lens, my eyes fluttering. The pain in my cheek is unreal.
“It’s okay,” Kat says, leaning down beside me. “I’ve got you. Can you walk?”
She slides my arm around her shoulders then heaves me up with Tarek’s help. Together, Tarek, Kat and I limp toward the kitchen. As I walk past Leon, I flash him a bright and bloody smile. He doesn’t seem to understand what just happened.
One-nil.
Kat rummages around the fridge-freezer compartment as Tarek gently strokes my hair. I relax into his touch. Kat pulls out a bag of ice cubes. She grabs a towel and wraps the bag inside.
“Here you are,” she murmurs, placing the bag of ice cubes squarely on my face. It stings. I try to shift away from its freezing chill, but she adjusts its position so that I become acclimatized to the temperature. She strokes my head. Tarek sits beside me, looking confused.
“Why are you so weird, Adam?” Tarek asks me in a plaintive voice. Something catches in my throat, and I grab the bag of ice cubes and slam it against my puffy cheek.
This should be a victory.
It doesn’t feel like one.
Standing behind me, Kat continues to stroke my hair. It’s soothing and sweet, and I hate that I like it. She tilts my head back, so that we meet each other’s gaze upside down.
“Wait. You don’t look at me,” I realize, staring into her eyes for the first time.
She has green eyes.
She rolls her shoulders back, as though gathering strength from inside. “You don’t look at me, either.”
“You didn’t look at me first.” I hear myself speaking and cringe. When did I turn into such a whiny baby?
Kat turns her attentions to Tarek. “Tarek,” she says mildly, “would you be able to find a bandage or some kind of scarf for Adam?”
Tarek frowns but he does as she says. I bite my tongue. She comes in here and now she’s ordering us around? Kat watches as he leaves the kitchen, then slips into his vacated chair. She looks at me with curious eyes — and how ironic it is that I can’t bear to look back.
Tentatively, she reaches out to take my hand. My muscles tense but I don’t shake her away.
“What was that?” she asks, a small frown on her face.
I play innocent. “What was what?”
“You, provoking Leon.”
“I wasn’t provoking him!” The bag of ice cubes goes flying onto the table from the force of my outburst.
She rolls her eyes and gathers the bag back up again. Gently, she places it against my cheek. “Are you sure about that? I heard the word ‘spy’ and the camera never lies...”
I glare at her.
She sighs. “I don’t know what you have against me, but I know Leon isn’t the immature one in this scenario. I’m sure if I check my footage I’ll find you swooning in pain like you’re at death’s door.” She squeezes my hand. “Is it acting you want to break into after music?”