Chapter 5
5
AGE 15
I slice my hand through the air in a cutting motion when my sister sticks her fingers in her ears, instantly silencing the room. I don’t blame Ash. We’re fucking terrible. Toxic Gods, my arse. We’re more like Toxic Gobshites right now. My sigh is heavy as I turn and look around at Conor, Jamie, and Aaron. We need to get our act together before Simone Sullivan’s birthday party in eight days, or we’ll never hear the end of it.
Initially, Ma had said we could have the play barn for band practice, but after a week, Da and Shane cleared out a smaller concrete shed that was full of old rubbish a bit farther away from the house for us. We all pitched in to buy a secondhand sofa and a table and chairs as well as some other bits of equipment we needed. We want this to be a creative hub where we write and perform music.
I threw Toxic Gods into the mix as a suggested name for the band, and it was the only name we all agreed on—Ash’s very vocal protests didn’t count. A few days later, Shane showed up with a large board bearing the name, tacking it to the wall, and now it’s official. My brother also got us a coffee machine. We’ve had our ups and downs, my brother and I, but he’s been really supportive of the band, and I’m finding he’s less annoying as I get older.
Shane graduated from UCD in May though the grad ceremony isn’t until September. He did really well, ’cause he’s a big fucking nerd. I’m hoping I did enough to pass my Junior Cert, though I’m not holding my breath. The exam reports aren’t released until October, so I’m making the most of my summer in case I get grounded for the rest of my life when the results come out.
“You’re all out of sync,” Ash says, leaning against the far wall. She’s our biggest supporter, and she hangs out with us every session. She is really excited about the band and happy for me. She wants us to succeed, and she has cool ideas, which is why we all listen to her. “Like, individually, you all play great, and you know the material, but you haven’t gelled. You haven’t found your flow.”
“What do you suggest?” Jay asks, reaching a hand up to check his hair is still intact. I swear he’s worse than a girl since he got a faux hawk and dyed the tips of his hair white blond.
“I suggest you stop drooling over my sister’s tits.” I say it low so Ash doesn’t hear.
“Can’t help it. They’re much bigger, and have you seen what she’s wearing?” He doesn’t disguise his approval as his gaze rakes over her crop top and small denim shorts.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Since Cillian and Ash started going out—and they’re clearly banging—she’s been dressing sexier. Ma and Da have no clue because she exits the house wearing jeans and a top and changes in the barn before leaving to meet her boyfriend. Her current wardrobe seems to consist mostly of crop tops, skimpy skirts, tight dresses, and high heels. My sister is beautiful, and she looks all grown up now. Unfortunately, Cill isn’t the only mate who’s noticed.
“Cill will kick your arse if he catches you.” Things are already strained between the three of us, and the dynamic has changed a lot. Cillian isn’t into music, so he’s not part of the band, and he has shown little interest in getting involved in any way. It’s only helping to highlight the divide in our friendship and the fact we don’t have that much in common with him anymore.
Jamie is pissed Cill is with Ash, though he’s claiming it’s ’cause Cillian isn’t good enough for her. With the rate the two of us are kissing girls, he’s not exactly brokenhearted, so maybe it’s the truth. I’m not completely happy Cill is fucking my sister, especially when they seem to argue and break up all the damn time, but it’s not my call to make. She says she loves him, and I’ve been warned not to interfere, so I’m trying to stay out of it.
If this is how relationships are, I want no part of it. I’m happy messing around with random girls, and my dick isn’t complaining. I haven’t fucked any girl yet, but I’m planning to rectify that this summer.
“The words are coming from my mouth, Jamie, not my fucking tits.”
Ash’s snarky tone yanks me out of my head. I thump my mate in the arm, sending him a warning look. “Ignore this clown,” I say, “and repeat your suggestions. I was zoned out.”
She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath before pushing off the wall and walking closer to us. “I’ve been googling it, and these are the kind of issues most new bands experience. Aaron,” she calls out, peeking past us to fix her stare on our drummer. “Typically, the drummer keeps time and the other band members align to your beat. You need a click track. I’ve emailed you a link to some software you can use to create it. That’ll help you all to keep to the same beat so you’re in sync. You’re in charge of that, Aaron. You keep the rhythm, and the others will follow your cue.”
Aaron nods his head enthusiastically, rolling his drumsticks between his fingers like the show-off he is. “Cool.”
“But the rest of you need to tighten up as well.” She puts her hands on her hips, letting her gaze skim over me, Conor, and Jay. “So, you need to pick one song to master, to find your rhythm as a band, and once you’ve got that one song nailed down, then you should be good to move on to others. So, what’s the song?”
“Easy,” I say.
“‘Breakeven,’” Jamie and I say together. We lift our hands for a knuckle touch. “It’s the perfect song.” Contemporary alternative rock or pop rock isn’t really my thing, but I make an exception for The Script and Coldplay. Mostly I’m into U2, The Foo Fighters, Nirvana, Imagine Dragons, Jane’s Addiction, The Cure, Green Day, No Doubt, Fleetwood Mac, Bon Jovi, and I could go on.
Recently, Jay and I have snuck out a few times to watch local indie rock bands play in pubs and venues across the city center. We’re both over six feet now, and we look older, plus we’ve got deadly fake IDs, so getting in hasn’t been an issue.
“Okay. So, here’s how it’s going down,” Ash says as Cillian enters the shed. She hasn’t noticed him yet; she’s too focused on us. “You’ll all practice your individual parts of ‘Breakeven’ religiously, every night alone, and record it. Listen back, correct anything that needs correcting, but listen to the beat, inhale the pulse, live and breathe it. Then at band practice, you try it a few different ways. One at a time, with drums, without drums, with the click, without it.”
“Babe.” Cillian slides his arms around her from behind and nuzzles her long, wavy hair with his nose. The pussy is obsessed with her hair, always running his fingers through it or sniffing it, and I saw him fucking brushing it one time. Weirdo. “Leave the band stuff to the band. What do you know about it?”
“A lot more than you,” she snaps, pushing his arms away and turning around to face him. “Dil’s been playing guitar since he was five and explaining things to me for as long. I’ve spent hours listening to Jamie and Dillon play. Plus, I’m good at research. I don’t have to be a musical genius to discover how other bands have overcome the teething problems they faced at the start.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re qualified to tell them what to do. It’s not like you’re their manager.” He chuckles at whatever expression is on her face.
“She is,” I blurt because I don’t like the way Cillian is treating my sister, and honestly, with how invested she is, it only makes sense.
Jamie’s mouth curves into a smile as he nods. Aaron eyes me in a way that says he’s cool with it, and Conor…well, Conor exists in his own little world. He’s currently sitting on the floor smoking a joint with his guitar beside him. I’ll explain it to him later, and he’ll be grand.
Conor only moved to Kilcoole when he was nine. He lives with his grandparents, and he keeps to himself. The lad is chasing some demons, not that I’m one to throw shade. No one was more surprised when he turned up to audition than me. I had no clue he was into music or that he could play bass guitar like a fucking legend. Jamie was a little concerned letting him into the band, but I like he’s quiet and a deep thinker, and who cares if he’s perpetually stoned? As long as he plays like that, I couldn’t give a flying fuck what he smokes. Conor said he’s written some stuff too, so we’re gonna join forces and see what magic we can create with our words.
Jamie and I have known Aaron since we were little kids. We all go to the same school. Although none of us are friends per se, we know his crew, and he’s sound and a kick-ass drummer, so it was a no-brainer to let him join.
Seems like setting up the band was easy in theory, not so much in reality. But I’m confident with Ash’s help we’ll get over this initial bump. Which is why Cillian Doyle doesn’t get to spout stupid shit at my sister and get away with it. “Keep your nose out of shit you know nothing about, Cill, and if I hear you disrespecting my sister like that again, I’ll knock you the fuck out.”
“You’re such a stuck-up-cunt at times,” Jamie says. “You need to chill.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Cillian glares at Jamie. “Jealous prick,” he adds under his breath.
“Okay, enough.” Ash threads her fingers through Cillian’s, pulling him back. “Let’s go. The session is finished anyway.”
“Sure, babe.” His arms go around her again, and I puke a little in my mouth when he slams his lips down on hers and kisses her in a way that leaves no one in any doubt he’s staking his claim. For Jamie’s benefit, I’m sure.
“I’ll catch you later,” Ash says, surfacing for air a minute later. “Remember what I said, and practice, practice, practice,” she calls out before Cillian steers her out the door.
“I don’t like that guy,” Conor says.
“I’m beginning to agree with you, mate,” Jamie adds.
Simone Sullivan’s eighteenth birthday party is equally the worst night of my life and the absolute best. Worst because our first public performance as a band is a complete fucking disaster. We’re still all over the place, and it shows. While the girls dancing in front of the stage were full of admiration, the guys shouting insults and throwing bottles at us from the corner weren’t holding back.
And best because it’s the night I lose my virginity.
I’m drowning my sorrows with a bottle of beer, propped against the bar in the large marquee erected on the grounds of the Sullivan mansion in Enniskerry, when the birthday girl comes up to me.
Simone is beautiful with gorgeous reddish-brown hair and the most stunning hazel eyes. She’s way out of my league, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to get in her knickers. Her body is like my every wet dream come to life, and I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes on her face and not looking down the front of her strapless black minidress. Her tits are huge, and they’re right there in front of my face. I spring an instant boner. “Having a good time?” I ask, adjusting the erection digging into the zip of my ripped jeans as I flash her a flirty grin.
“Nope.” Grabbing my bottle, she empties the rest of my beer down her throat. I use the opportunity to sneak a look down her dress, and I almost die on the spot. Fuck me. I need to get my hands and my lips on those titties. Saliva pools in my mouth, and my cock aches with need.
She slams the bottle down on the counter and drills me with a poisonous look. “Your band is shite. I just broke up with my cheating arsehole of a boyfriend, and I punched my best friend and told her to go fuck herself after I caught her banging my fella in the downstairs loo. My cake was red fucking velvet . Like what the fuck is that? What the hell is wrong with good ole chocolate fudge cake? Which is what I asked for, but Mum ignores anything I say.”
She grabs a half-empty bottle of beer from the counter and takes a quick swig before putting it down and grabbing me by the shirt. “I hate most everyone here, and I don’t know why I even bothered having a party because I’m having a shit time, and to top it off, I’m not even drunk!” Her eyes flare with frustration before darkening when they lower to my mouth.
“Sounds like you need to destress.” I run the tip of my finger up her bare arm as she relaxes her iron fist in my shirt. “It’s not too late to turn your birthday into a fun night.” I trace my finger across her collarbone. I’m so fucking tempted to bury my hand in the gap between her tits, but I think that might be pushing it.
Ma always says all good things come to those who wait, so I’ll hold off on groping her tits in public.
She laughs. “I suppose you’re offering?”
“Hell yeah.” I cock my head to one side and flash her another flirty grin.
“I’ll admit you have a lot of stage presence. You look like you belong up there.” She moves in closer, placing her hands on my hips. “You look the part too.” She drags her eyes up and down my body, lingering on the noticeable bulge at my crotch. “Your band needs to get their act together, but you have something special.” Her lips land on my jaw the same time her hands land on my arse. “And a great arse.”
I move my lips to her ear. “Want to take this somewhere private?” My arms go around her back, and I press her in against me, ensuring she feels how hard I am for her.
Her pupils are blown when she lifts her head and stares into my eyes. “You do owe me after that rubbish performance.” Her eyes glint with desire, and my palms are itching to explore every delicious inch of her.
“I do,” I readily agree, fully prepared to lie if she asks me how old I am.
But she doesn’t.
“I get horny when I’m pissed off.” She links her fingers in mine and leads me out of the marquee. When she looks up at me, a naughty grin is dancing over her lips. “And I’m really fucking pissed off tonight.”
Pushing her up against the wall, I cage her in between my arms. “Challenge accepted,” I purr before crashing my mouth to hers.