Chapter Sixteen
Ruby
I push open the door to the hotel room, guitar case on my back and rucksack over an arm. The neutrally decorated, narrow room barely fits the furniture and heavy brown curtains block out all natural light. I push the keycard into the slot and the lights come on revealing two queen size beds. Great.
Jax barrels in behind me and leaps onto the nearest bed, flopping back and looking at the ceiling. Will hovers in the doorway, chewing on his lip piercing.
“This it?” asks Will.
“What did you expect?” I ask. “The Ritz? Most bands our size don’t have a sponsor and have to sleep in the van!”
“Dunno, it’s… small,” says Will.
“Yeah, that’s what I heard the chick saying about you the other day.” Nate pushes him out of the way and walks in. “Seriously? We’re not spending much time here anyway.”
“I know, but what about the after party?” says Will.
“It’s going to get a bit cramped if you invite more than one person,” I reply.
“I bet Jem’s room is bigger; reckon he’ll let us party in there?” Nate asks.
“Sure, Nate. The recovering addict would love his room full of drunk and high kids. Great idea. Maybe we should ask him to dump us now if you’re going to piss him off! Dickhead,” I retort.
Will laughs. “Ohhh! Listen to you. You live with a rock star and now you’re his bestie?”
“f-uck off.” I prop my guitar against the wall. “Who’s sleeping on the floor?”
“Why does anyone have to sleep on the floor?” asks Nate, lying on the other bed and resting his hands beneath his head.
“Two queen beds, four people, three guys, one girl.” I raise a questioning eyebrow.
Nate smirks. “You’re not a real girl, Rube, not to us anyway.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to share a bed with any of you guys.”
Jax throws back the covers. “Me! You can sleep with me and we can work on the lead singer and guitarist relationship.” He pats the bed.
“I don’t think there’ll be room for me and your conquests,” I retort.
“You could share with me and Will, and then…” begins Nate.
I narrow my eyes. “One comment about threesomes and I’ll kick your ass.”
“If you’re in my bed why would I need to pick up other chicks?” continues Jax.
“Shut the hell up.” I’m uncomfortable with his words. Jax is the only guy I’ve ever trusted and that was because he had no interest in me outside of my music; there’s never been any attempt to hit on me. Once over, I didn’t think Jax ever saw me as anything, but the band’s honorary guy; but recently I’m not a hundred per cent sure. Our banter is full of innuendo, always was, and Jax has never looked at or touched me in a way to make me question that. But comments like that niggle and have me on alert for any extra meaning behind his friendly kisses and hugs.
“I reckon she’s going to sweet talk Jem into sharing his room,” says Nate.
“Yeah, what’s the deal with you guys?” Will pokes around in the bar fridge. “Hey! Look at this! Beers!”
“There’s no deal. I’m just staying at his house.”
Will pulls one out. “Have you done the dirty with him yet?” Jax throws a pillow at him. “What? I’m only asking what we all want to know.”
“What do you mean what you all want to know? Have you been discussing me and Jem behind my back?” I slam the hotel room door shut and glare at Jax.
“Aw, c’mon, Rube. You’ve lived with him two weeks and he’s Jem Jones. I even saw you on the internet as ‘Jem’s new girl’.”
The day I saw myself blasted on social media as Jem’s latest chick, it pissed me off. Jem said he didn’t give a shit; I could be eighty years old and they’d still accuse me of being more. The guys loved it because it was more publicity for the band; and as they’re right, I put up with the rumours and bite my tongue.
“Jem and me don’t interact a lot; and I sure as hell won’t be asking to share his hotel room, too!”
Nate whispers something to Will and they snigger. I’m ready to lose it, for the first time I’m aware that as the only female band member there’s connotations.
“I’ll sleep on the floor, Ruby,” says Jax and I glance at him. He knows me better than I realise, his awareness of my moods helps with band diplomacy on my bad days.
“You’ll pass out on the floor anyway, so nothing for me to worry about,” I tell him.
Jax climbs back off the bed. “Let’s grab the rest of our gear from the van. We haven’t got much time until we need to be at the venue to set up.” He stops as he reaches me. “Next time we’ll ask for four singles.”
The smile he gives is apologetic but also concern. Jem doesn’t want to know about Tuesday, but Jax has spent time trying to get me to talk about her. In the early days, Jax attempted to talk to me about Dan, too. He soon learned it wasn’t worth it; I wouldn’t allow anyone to interfere and hid as much as I could. Jax recognises when Tuesday’s around, but has given up trying to understand her.
****
A couple of hours later, Jax and me sit on the edge of the stage chatting as the brothers finish setting up their gear. Will and Nate contain enough excitement for all of us. They’ve always amused me, their enthusiasm for life infectious. On my dark days, spending time with the brothers helped. Their positivity radiates to those around, and multiplied by two, the twins always bring a great vibe to anywhere they go. This reflects in their music, and is why Ruby Riot’s music could never have a downbeat sound.
What would it be like to have a twin? Will and Nate are identical and telling them apart isn’t helped by their decision to rock the same image. I tease them sometimes, saying they should get their names tattooed on themselves since they have plenty of others. They made a concession – both have pierced eyebrows, but Will’s is the left and Nate’s the right. Their identical spikey black hair doesn’t help; the only option is to get close enough to see. The pair plays on this with chicks that take an interest and I’ve heard them offering to show girls other differences in their appearance, differences not visible when they’re clothed. I laugh, at their idiocy and at the girls who fall for it.
Jax shows me the latest viral videos on his phone, not-so-hilarious footage of guys our age doing stupid things. Gluing their mouths together with superglue is funny, why? I feign interest but keep checking the time on my phone. Every night we’re due on stage, I freak out for a few hours before. My mouth has a mind of its own and I’m best avoided altogether because when adrenaline courses through me, things never come out well. The guys tend to leave me alone or ignore any outbursts. They know what to expect, and I’m heading in that direction again.
I haven’t seen Jem since this morning when we left his house and weirdly went our separate ways to travel to the same place. I piled into the hired van with the guys and Jem said he had something to do before he started the trip to Manchester. I don’t think Jem’s sleeping again because recently the door bangs waking me in the early hours to indicate he’s going down to the gym, and then when he comes back I wake again. Some nights I hear him playing in the early hours. What concerns me is I worry about Jem.
We both hide but parts of us seep through.
Things cooled between us when I refused to go to the police on the day after Dan tried to get in touch with me again. Jem insisted but I was too hungover and not in the mood for him to interfere. I didn’t appreciate his comments about fixing me, or the weird look he gave me when he told me he wanted to help. That’s too reminiscent of Dan’s ‘help’: taking control.
Jem’s face is a pissed off red when he stomps into the stage area. I don’t miss the fact his look lingers on where Jax’s arm is around my shoulder, or how he avoids meeting my eyes. This is the other thing that concerns me. I can’t deny I’m attracted to him and I’m aware of something between us that was there but never mentioned in the time we spent alone in his house. Unless I’m imagining it. I don’t know.
“What’s up, man?” asks Jax, dropping his arm.
“I’m not used to dealing with this shit,” Jem says. “I usually just play and don’t have to deal with venue managers and crap.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“They’re screwing around over door sales percentages or something. I don’t understand this side of things.” Jem’s half-talking to himself. “And why the f-uck are you two sitting there?”
I stiffen. “What?”
“Will and Nate are sound-checking. You guys think you’re too good to join in?”
“We’re done, they had some sound issues they wanted to double-check,” I retort.
“You do this as a band!”
“We do this how we always do it!” I say and stand. “We have our way of doing this.”
Jem glares at me. “You have to do things my way when you’re on tour with me.”
I straighten. “What the f-uck? Since when?”
“I know what I’m doing. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you.”
“And we don’t?” This isn’t helping the pre-show anxiety.
“You have a lot to learn, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? Since when did he call me such a condescending name? “f-uck this!” Relieved that my self-control manages to limit me to just those words, I stomp away to the Green Room. I need to get ready anyway, I’m still in my scruffy track pants and loose flannel shirt, and I’m not performing in those.
I’m midway through getting changed when Jax appears, walking through the door without knocking. He halts and stares, I only have panties and a thin black vest on.
“You could’ve knocked!” I snap.
Jax has seen it all before. In the early days, I changed in filthy toilet cubicles but soon swapped to half-stripping in front of the other guys when getting ready for gigs. I’m not shy, and they’re used to it now. I’m not exactly curvy and I doubt they find me attractive, as evidenced by the ‘semi-guy’ comment in the hotel room.
“You okay?” Jax asks.
“He’d better not be like that at every gig.”
“This manager gig is new to him, but we should listen to him. He knows what he’s doing.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like being spoken to like I’m a kid.” I dig around in my bag for my black dress.
“Well, we are to him and you kinda behave like one sometimes.”
I glare, choosing to ignore the dig. “He’s only five years older!”
“And wiser.”
I make a derisive sound. “Not really.”
Jax runs a hand through his thick blond hair and fixes his pale blue eyes on mine. “Don’t f-uck this up. Be nice.”
“Nice? You’re asking me to be nice? This is Ruby Butler you’re talking to here.”
“Very true.” Jax catches sight of something and points. “You got new ink. When was that?”
The short vest exposes my stomach, revealing the pattern of red roses and thorns stretching across my lower belly. “It’s not that long since you saw me almost naked! I got it a couple of months ago.”
The door opens and Jem walks in. Instantly I hold the short dress against myself, and Jax steps back tucking his hands under his arms. Jem’s eyes widen and in them, for a split second, is the reason why being semi-naked in front of Jem is different. I’m not imagining Jem’s attraction to me; the desire just flickered across his face.
“What’s going on?” Jem asks.
“Nothing. I was admiring Ruby’s tattoos,” says Jax.
Jem narrows his eyes.
“I’m getting changed, if you don’t mind.” I pull the dress over my head.
“Sorry. Okay.” At least he has the decency to be embarrassed.
“Then I’m going to have a smoke, if that’s okay with you?” My hair sweeps forward as I grab my combat boots and shove my feet in. “Don’t worry, I’ll be present and correct, ready to go on stage, sir.”
Snatching my cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of my discarded pants, I leave the room.
****
Jem
Jax launches into one of his Q&A sessions about my early Blue Phoenix gigs and all I can picture is Ruby semi-naked with him. Ruby semi-naked with me, and my hands on her skin. I fight the memory of Ruby revealing her tattoos in the kitchen – and what else she revealed with them. I’ve spent a few nights fighting my overactive imagination’s attempt to picture what would’ve happened if things had gone further, but my subconscious took hold and pushed her into my dreams. Big pat on the back for not taking advantage, but shit that night hasn’t helped my fantasies about this chick.
Now this, and in the pit of my stomach seethes an emotion I’m unfamiliar with recently. Jealousy.
For years, I’ve felt nothing and then in this last couple of months the whole range of emotions has assailed me. Anger, despair, grief, and a shitload of guilt over people and events from the past. The suddenness and strength with which these emotions can overwhelm are what pull me backward. I know why the dreams about Liv began again, the one thing from my past I can’t go back and fix.
After rehab, I had apologies to give and amends to make. It was f-ucking hard, but I went to Dylan, and we worked through all the crap of the last couple of years. I apologised to Sky for how I treated her and we’ve reached a wary stalemate. Liam was cool apart from another lecture about how Dylan’s and my behaviour screw around with the band. Bryn just shrugged me off and said the real apology will come from staying clean, because this time I almost killed the thing I love the most. Blue Phoenix.
Now Ruby stirs other emotions beyond the physical lust I’d have for girls before.
I worry about Ruby when she goes to work in case Dan appears. I care whether she’s okay when she spends half a day in her room without coming out. I’m happy when we sit together, even if it is in silence.
And I’m f-ucking jealous when I see Jax’s hands on her.
I’ve fooled myself that Ruby in my house for a couple of weeks meant nothing; that she was hanging out until we safely went on tour. I allowed Ruby a glimpse into myself and I saw a different girl, one who has triggered a desire for somebody else to share my new life with. Bryn’s right, this is heading in a direction bad for my grip on sobriety. I can’t get attached to a girl like her - or any girl currently. Back in her life with the boys, Ruby’s relaxed and at home, the distance has reformed and I need to keep things this way. When we finish this tour, she needs to leave my house.