I tip my head at Jax as she leaves the room. “Close friend?”
“Once.” He winks.
Great. At least I don’t need to worry about upsetting Sara if she’s a free spirit kind of girl. I don’t judge—nothing about what she does makes her worse than me because she’s a chick. I don’t get the impression she’d let people use her; I reckon she gets what she wants. If you don’t like relationships, what else can you do? Become celibate? I don’t think so.
“I’ll be with the guys,” says Jax, indicating the bar. “Leave you to chat.” He backs out of the door and closes it.
Bryn watches him go then turns to me. “You’re right about the band. We should definitely let Steve hear them.”
“Apart from them murdering “Rising”…” I mutter.
“Nobody’s ever good enough for you.”
“No, nobody playsmymusic like I do.”
Bryn shakes his head at me. “I reckon they’re special; don’t judge them because you’re in a bad mood about not getting laid.”
“That’s nothing to do with it and I wasn’t fucking the chick.” I scowl.
“Sure, Jem.” Bryn laughs. “I guess the lead singer is off the table now. Not the best way to impress a girl you like.”
My scowl grows. “I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’ll talk to the band.”
The venue empties, but a few stragglers hang around the band and one guy in particular hangs around Ruby. He’s taller and slimmer than the dickhead she dates and she’s not impressed at his attention. I recognise Ruby’s stance as the same the day I tried to hit on her - sour face, tightly crossed arms. This guy likes a challenge.
I approach. “Ruby, I want to talk to the band. Together.”
“Right.” She doesn’t look at me, staring over the shoulder of the guy she’s with. “In the Green Room?”
“Here’s fine, once everyone else has left.”
The guy looks around. “Hey! Jem Jones!” His interest in Ruby fades. “Dude!”
Dude?“Yeah, but don’t ask me for my fucking autograph.”
“Blue Phoenix, man…” As the longhaired kid launches into reverential stories about the band, Ruby smirks into her drink, catching my eye briefly. Her smile disappears as she does.
Then Ruby walks away from me.
I unsubtly tell the kid to get fucked, irritated by the events of the last hour, and leave him open-mouthed as I pursue Ruby. She settled into a leather booth seat in the corner, and chats to Bryn. I don’t know what he says to her, but she laughs, a sound that tears jealousy through me. Bryn and his sense of humour that everyone loves, even uptight red-haired chicks.
The brothers, Will and Nate, look over expectantly when I approach. They remind me of the cartoon animals in that kids’ film - the two hyper, over-eager brothers. Harmless and excitable. I guess they don’t do ‘aloof, rock star’.
“Where’s Jax?” I ask, pulling out a stool.
“Smoke,” replies Bryn. His response kicks in my nicotine craving.
“No, I’m here,” says Jax, appearing on the stool next to me, the smell of cigarette smoke on his clothes not helping my resolve. A week now since I had a smoke.Go me. “Hope you didn’t start without me.”
This guy is going to rock the star status. He has the tousled blond-haired, blue-eyed thing going on with just the right amount of edge and cockiness. Jax isn’t along for the ride though—he drives the band. That I know from the constant hassle he gives me for an answer as to what I intend to do. I admire him for that; I did the same with every talent scout I came across in the early Phoenix days.
Ruby picks up a beer mat and taps it onto the table, edge by edge. “So? You got an answer for us yet?”
“I got a question.”
“What?” asks Jax.
“Whose idea was it to play “Rising” tonight?”