Fully Automatic (Bullet) (11 page)

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Authors: Jade C. Jamison

BOOK: Fully Automatic (Bullet)
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It was easy to stand and reach over, so he did.  He held his hand out as though to shake hers.  “Jennifer.”  The young blonde extended her hand to his and he leaned over, bringing it up to his lips.  Val’s roommate was thrilled—he could tell—but he wondered what Val herself thought.  He was hoping to score more points.

It was definitely working.  Val said, “How debonair.”

Yeah, and that told h
im it was time to push his luck, and he sat down.  He lowered his voice so her roommate wouldn’t be able to hear it easily.  “
You
…I’ll kiss elsewhere.”  Fuck, yes.  It was working, and so much better than he’d ever dreamed.  He could see it on her face.  And she probably had no idea all the places he’d love to kiss on her.  He took a breath and smiled, then raised his voice, because what he was going to say next, he didn’t care if her roommate heard.  He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her response anyway.  “So…you here to watch us play, or is this just a coincidence?”

She had a devilish grin on her face.  “I came to watch
you
.”

Fucking God.  He couldn’t believe it.  She was messing with him—he knew that much.  Still, that she was going to the trouble to inflate his ego and flirt with him at the same
time…well, that told him everything he needed to know, and he was going to keep the ball rolling.  “You’re here just for me?”

“Yep.  Just for you.”  He winked at her then, as if to communicate to her that he knew she was playing but he appreciated it just the same.

Time to leave while he was ahead and she was eating out of the palm of his hand.  “Gotta go.  I’m hanging at another band’s merch table to see how it’s done.”  Without thinking it through, on impulse, he kissed her on the cheek.  Then he stood.  “See you after the show?”

“Maybe.”  Oh, that little shit.  God, now she was teasing him.  Now he’d have to get out of there before he popped a boner.

He raised his eyebrows, wanting to keep the flirting tone in his voice.  He pointed at her and said, “You better be here.”  Then he turned to leave.

He wasn’t sure, because it was so loud in the joint already, but as he walked away, he thought he could hear her roommate say, “Oh, my God.  Who
was
that?”  If her friend was impressed by Brad, it could only help him out, right?

He joined Shane at the merch table again and took mental notes the entire time he was there.  Brad caught that the guy was really good at upselling, something Brad didn’t know he’d be good at.  He’d always believed in the power of his music.  He believed that if it was good enough, that was all he’d need.  He wouldn’t have to sell bumper stickers and other bullshit.  Yeah, that was true, sure, but he also knew sometimes fans would
want
merchandise—he knew he spent money on band merchandise.  Why wouldn’t his fans want merch too?  Besides, if it helped move his band forward by providing them with a little extra cash, why wouldn’t he?  Now that they were one-hundred percent solid on their name (and he’d been redesigning their logo), why not do it?  It couldn’t hurt, unless for some reason they spent more on merchandise than they made.  But that would be stupid.  They would know how much they’d have to charge to make a profit, and they’d make sure they would.  He didn’t know that he’d follow Shane’s advice of giving pretty girls a t-shirt for free, but he’d have to try it once or twice before ruling out the idea.

When the first band started playing, Brad bought a t-shirt from Shane as a way of saying thanks for letting him sit with him and learn.  Their band was good too, so he’d wear it.  He considered joining Valerie and her friend to watch the first band and decided against it.  He didn’t want to seem like an eager puppy dog.  Yeah, there
continued to be some weird inexplicable spark between them that he could no better explain than he could the properties of a black hole, but he
was
smart enough to know that, no matter what she said or how she acted toward him, Valerie now had a bit of history with Ethan, and he didn’t know if that would trump whatever moves he made.  From this point forward, he knew he had to be cautious…and prepare to give that girl a hell of a show.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

HE COULDN’T HAVE played a better show if he’d planned it.  Really, though, Brad went into every show planning to give it his all, and this one had been no different.  Each audience deserved the best show it could get, the best show they’d paid for, and Brad intended to deliver.  Still, there were some nights where things just didn’t click—where they’d felt sluggish, or out of sync, or like anything that could have gone wrong had.  Tonight, though, it was like magic.

In spite of the fact that he was there for the whole crowd, Valerie was a
t the forefront of his mind, and after the fourth song of their set, he pulled off his Black Label Society t-shirt and threw it to the side of the stage.  He’d been hot and sweaty anyway, but if she was watching, he wanted to show himself off.  He had some new ink anyway, and it was going to waste hiding under the shirt.

Midway into the fifth song, he noticed Val and her friend at the foot of the stage.  He knew she had to be more invested than other audience members, because several of the songs had her words as the lyrics.  Ever since that night in his garage where they’d written their first song as a group effort that began with Val’s constructive criticism, he’d tried harder with his words.  He’d always felt that the words were secondary to the music, because that was the kind of music lover he was.  If he loved the music, he loved the song.  Yeah, he’d listen to and (maybe) appreciate the words later, but if he didn’t love the music—if the tune didn’t speak to him—he’d never hear the words.  The lyrics would never stand a chance.  Since Val had hopped on board with her word wizardry, he’d taken a step back and rethought his ideas about lyrics.  He’d since paid more attention to the lines he wrote and the words he chose.  He wanted them to mean something, and if he could even come close to the brilliance of some of Val’s lyrics, he’d have it made.
  He’d even retooled the words of a couple of his older songs, hoping to make them fresher, more original.

He hoped she would notice.

God, he also hoped he wasn’t making her uncomfortable, but seeing her there, he could hardly take his eyes off her.  She was beautiful.  She was loving the show too, headbanging, throwing the horns in the air, rocking out.  Her friend liked the music too, but Brad could tell Valerie loved it.  What made him feel better was that, even though she was watching the whole band, Ethan included, she kept her eyes mostly on him too.

Yeah, he had a chance.  A good chance.

So, by the second to last song, he was more self-assured than ever, and he was prepared to venture past the point of no return.  When the applause from the previous song died down, Brad said into the mike, “I’m dedicating this song to the cute brunette standing near the edge of the stage.”  He made sure he caught Val’s eye before he added, “You know who you are.”  At this point, he wasn’t going to look over at Ethan, because his friend knew how Brad felt about Val, and Brad was no dummy.  He knew something had happened between Ethan and Val, but he was hoping that whatever it had been was over.  It was time to move in.  “This song is called ‘Want You’.”  It was a song he’d written the week after he’d met her, before he and Ethan had had their little talk.  It had also been his first attempt at trying to write something with more meaning, more substance…more like the way Val wrote.  He started feeling nervous as he played the chords on his guitar, because he wondered what she’d think.  He was especially nervous because he’d written the damn song
about
her.

 

“A chance encounter,

Two strangers meet.

A hidden smile, a secret glance.

You’re in my sights,

Won’t take defeat,

No second thought, no second chance

 

“Want you, baby, be mine tonight.

I need you more than words can say.

I’ll make you my queen, make you my whore,

But I know I can’t have you anyway.”

 

He was pretty sure that the chorus had freaked her out a little bit, especially with the word
whore
, but she didn’t know the song was about her, right?  Or did she?

He moved forward.  He didn’t have much of a choice.  So he made sure his voice was strong as he began the second verse.

 

“As I gaze upon you,

Sparks ignite.

The smoldering becomes a burning flame.

Do you feel the same?

I think you might.

A blazing desire that can’t be tamed.”

 

He kept his voice steady, his guitar keeping him anchored and focused as he sang the song.  He’d been working on it for months and could have sung it in his sleep, so he simply had to make sure his voice was solid and calm, his fingers sure, his gaze off her so he could ensure a stellar performance of the song.  He could feel the eyes of the audience on him, and as he looked up, aside from being blinded by the bright lights flooding the stage, he could see cell phones swaying from side to side in the audience. 
Holy fuck.
  That was cool.

More than that, it
was powerful.

And that told him what he needed to know.  It wasn’t just a lust song; it was a
falling for someone
song.  It was hardcore.  The girls got the message, so surely Val had too…if it had sunk in with her that he’d dedicated it to her for a reason.

When t
he song was over, the crowd went wild.  For that reason alone, he was glad their next song was the last.  It was a song called “Bullet Through My Soul,” a song they had always played last.  It was heavy and loud and energetic, a great way to end a show.  Even though the band name was no longer
Bullet
, he was sure this song would be their go-to song forever.  It was Ethan’s song, but the whole band had worked on the music together, and it wasn’t just heavy sound-wise.  The words were weighed with meaning, and most people only heard the superficial message, that love hurt.  It had layers of meaning, though—love for two people, love from parents, love from an audience—and Ethan had poured his heart into the song.  It was one that his friend had said he would never be able to sing, though, so Brad sang it for him.  When the words came out of his mouth at the end of every show, he could almost feel Ethan’s pain but doubted any of their listeners had any idea how deeply scarred his friend was.  Still, Brad was convinced that if their band made it, Ethan could let go of his past.

When their set was over, Brad was doubly glad he’d decided to do the show here.  The audience was unbelievable.  He knew the crowd was mostly full of college kids, but he knew they would always be a good chunk of his audience.  He didn’t know that he’d ever experienced a show that infused with energy and a sense of power.  It was incredible, and he knew he’d feel high all night.

After the applause died down and they’d thanked the audience, they started taking their stuff off stage.  The drum kit always took the longest, and all the guys had to work on it.  But Brad hardly noticed that night, because he was dreaming about his future.  He knew it would just keep getting better and better. 
This is what it feels like
, he’d thought.

The last band started setting up, and Ethan, Zane, and Nick went backstage and started slamming some drinks.  Brad excused himself, not that they noticed, and found Val and her friend out front.  They’d moved away from the front of the stage, but they weren’t too far off and they were easy to find.  The last band was awesome, and Brad couldn’t quite place their sound but would say they leaned heavily toward melodic death metal.  It wasn’t his usual flavor of metal, but they were good and he could understand why they had such a huge following.

Still…he didn’t want to rock out anymore.  He had designs on the young lady beside him.  In between songs, he cupped his hands and said in her ear, “You guys wanna come hang with us backstage?”

The girls
liked the idea and followed him backstage into a smallish room where Fully Automatic and the first band were hanging with a few people.  They could hear the music, but it was quieter and they didn’t have to shout at one another.  There was a sign on the door that said, “KEEP DOOR CLOSED DURING SHOWS.  RESPECT YOUR FELOW PERFORMERS.”  Brad saw that someone had taken a Sharpie to the sign and added another
l
to spell
fellow
properly.  He knew that he and his group didn’t need to be told by a sign or otherwise.  They all worked hard for their moment under the spotlights and damned if they’d fuck it up for their brothers onstage.  So both the sign and its correction were unnecessary.  If they had to be loud, they’d go outside.

As soon as he and the girls entered the room, Zane made a beeline for the blonde
with Val.  Brad heard just enough of their conversation to gather that they’d been involved before…and it sounded like Zane was trying to reignite something.  Brad asked Val, “What did you think of the show?”

She smiled.  “Oh, wow.  It was incredible, Brad.  You guys were so good in your garage but here, with a huge audience?  You were amazing.”

It felt nice to hear her say that.  “We’ve been working hard.  I hope it shows.”

“It definitely does.”  And while he could tell there was still that magnetic draw they had to each other, he could also tell she was distracted by Ethan.  His friend was off in the corner chatting with a girl
, and while Val tried to be respectful and not look, he could tell she was also thinking about his friend…the guy who didn’t deserve her.  So they talked for a few minutes about individual songs and her impressions of them, but he didn’t have her undivided attention.  Still, he tried.  He didn’t want to compete, though, and so he was considering going out to watch the band again.  Just as he had made that decision, Ethan looked over at him.  When he saw he had Brad’s attention, he cocked his head toward the door and pointed his thumb, and Brad knew what that meant.  No better time than the present.  He looked at Valerie and said, “We’re gonna go party at Zane’s in a minute.  Much as I wanna stay and headbang, ‘cause this band’s awesome, Ethan’s in a hurry to get out of here.”  He knew now that he had a snowball’s chance in hell, but he had to try.  “So…you’ll come by after?”

Her smile was shy and sweet…and
that
was for him alone.  “Yeah.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.  I said
yes
.”

“Just making sure.”

Brad and Zane exchanged looks and Zane said something to Jennifer, then laid a hell of a kiss on the girl before she and Val left the room.  At this rate, it was gonna be a long fucking night.

 

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