Chapter 14
After a full day working in the rented recording studio in downtown LA, we’re back home and crashing in the small den attached to the kitchen. Jagger and Callum are strumming some notes on the guitar.
Asher sits crossed-legged on the floor next to the dog, petting him while he flips through some music sheets we wrote today. I swear, if that lad had a life’s wish, I bet he’d ask to become a canine.
Eden’s sitting on the armchair with her feet curled behind her, writing in the journal she always carries and looking pretty.
I won’t lie and say Eden looks average. She’s never looked average, and with her incredible vocals, she caught the attention of almost every music mogul on the West Coast who wanted to record her voice.
But I’m not talking about her stardom; I’m referring to the most beautiful creature I ever laid my eyes on. I search my brain for words that could capture the essence of what I feel.
Eden’s an enigma.
It’s not just her looks but the way she carries herself. Confident, yet this hint of vulnerability draws one in.
Then there are those deep green eyes, they’re like galaxies. I could get lost in them, and I remember back in the day when I did, as if nothing else existed for me.
I lean across the kitchen counter, gazing at everyone, and it brings back a little nostalgic moment. We’ve done this before. At least several dozen times as teenagers.
The soft sound of guitars play in the background, but at this moment, nothing else matters but the vision before me.
My eyes fix on Eden as she replies to something Asher says, and my eyes trace the delicate curve of her smile as she laughs at whatever he utters, reminding me of the feelings I once had for her a zillion years ago.
A shattered past and an unstable future.
“Bruv, how about a snack?” Callum draws me out of whatever daydream I drifted to. “Eden fancy a bit of a nibble?”
“I wouldn’t say no,” she says, smiling at me like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm. Genuine, warm, and it lights up the whole damn room.
Fuck, I need to get out of this damn fixation I have. I can never go back to where I was with her. None of us can afford that.
She’s unstable and untrustworthy, and I have no idea why she agreed to join us here after she threw us all out of her home. If she’s on some avenge mission, I need to keep my knob in my pants and keep wanking myself to shower moments until we finish these demos, and she can go back to her desert.
I reach for the drawer and pull out several bags of crisps.
“I’ve got salt and vinegar here. How does that sound, Eden?”
“What?” She looks up at me with a wild look.
“You said you want a snack. How’s salt and vinegar?”
“Fuck no, asshole.”
Okay. I sigh and look back down into the drawer, rummaging around.
“Cheese and Onion? Worcester Sauce?”
“Got any prawn cocktail?” I hear Callum shout out, and I keep rummaging.
“Nope. I’ve got pickled onion, though,” I suggest and look at Callum and then Eden.
“What the hell?” Eden asks with a frown. And I hold up the bright green bag for her, and she huffs at me.
“Crisps,” I clarify.
“You and your strange as fuck flavors. Haven’t you heard of normal chips? I prefer to eat plain salted chips.”
I breathe out a sigh of frustration.
“Do I look like a fucking chippie?”
She furrows her brows and dives her head back into her journal, muttering something about babies dropped on their heads and throwing me at a wall, which I’m sure her grumble is aimed at me.
Callum gets up and snatches the green bag from me. “You do realize she was referring to salted crisps, you git. Not flippin’ chips or fries as she knows them.”
I shrug, toss the remaining bags back into the drawer, and pull out a tub of salted Pringles.
“Here,” I actually attempt to aim it at her, but the tub lands on Asher’s shoulder.
“Fucking hell, you need to up your contact subscription,” he says and gets up from the floor to give them to Eden and flops onto the sofa next to the armchair she sits on.
Actually, I removed my contacts when we all returned earlier. I go over to the small drawer where I keep my knick-knacks and find my pair of dark-framed spare specs.
“Fancy a beer, anyone?” I ask, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a six-pack. As expected, the three lads agree, but Eden refrains from alcohol. I don’t know when she stopped drinking. It must have been after we broke up.
After handing out the bottles, I join Asher on the sofa, and he passes me a music sheet.
“You know we need a name,” Jagger says moments later. “Oliver’s been pressing me for one.”
Jagger’s always led this band crew, so I don’t see why things should change. He’s also been leading the discussions with Oliver Jones.
“Thunderstrike,” Callum blurts out.
“Cheesy,” Eden says without looking up from her writing. I have to agree with her.
“Sonic Stormtroopers,” Callum suggests, and I watch Eden cringe.
I wish my brother would shut his trap for once.
“Nothing that reminds us of our past,” Jagger says. “This is a new clean slate.”
“Crimson Vortex,” suggests Eden, and I like the sound.
“Vengeance Vortex,” Callum follows up.
“So we like Vortex?” Jagger asks, and we nod to it.
“But not on its own,” Eden adds. “It needs something strong in front of it, but I like the double V that Callum used.”
“Venom Vortex?” I say, realizing I’m not too fond of it as the words leave my mouth.
“Velocity Vortex,” Asher breathes out, and the room remains silent as we adjust to the words in our heads.
“Velocity Vortex,” each of us murmurs and smiles at each other.
“I think we found our band name,” Jagger says with excitement in his eyes.
I watch Eden casually scribble it down and turn her journal toward us.
“There you go.” She smiles warmly.
It does look good in writing.
Soon, Eden’s cheerful demeanor quickly shifts to sheer horror as she stares at the entrance of the room. We all turn to see what she’s glaring at and catch Storm trotting towards her with an unexpected item in his mouth.
The unmistakable hum fills the air, and Eden’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“Storm, no!” she exclaims, realizing the bright pink vibrator is still buzzing away in the dog’s mouth.
The other three turn their heads, their eyes widening in unison as the reality dawns on them.
“Uh, Eden,” Callum manages to choke out. “I think Storm found your, uh, personal massager.”
A collective snigger from us fellas fills the room as Eden’s face turns a shade of crimson we didn’t know existed. She rushes towards Storm, desperately attempting to retrieve the buzzing device from his slobbery grasp.
Asher is unable to contain his laughter, ”Well, this is a new level of dog shenanigans. Storm, you sly dog!”
Eden shoots him a glare as she wrestles the vibrating object from Storm’s clutches, and the room continues to erupt in laughter as we struggle to keep our composure.
“Looks like Storm found a new chew toy!” Jagger chimes in with a mischievous grin.
“Clearly, he has a taste for the finer things in life,” Eden, now holding the vibrator, shoots back. “Can we please never speak of this again?”
I chuckle, ”Oh, this is going down in the history books, princess. Storm, the connoisseur of adult toys!”
As Eden chases Storm out of the room, trying to salvage whatever is left of her dignity, we continue laughing and wiping the tears from our eyes. I don’t think any of us have laughed so hard in such a long time. I slide off the sofa and down my drink.
“Oh, this is was a comedic masterpiece!”
I leave the bottle on the counter.
“Who’s up for pizza for dinner?” I ask after Eden returns.
Everyone agrees.
“Eden, after that adventure, perhaps taking Storm out for a walk might do him some good,” Jagger says, standing up from his chair. “I could go pick up a pizza and take him with me. Anyone fancy joining me?”
“No way, man, not in this dry heat,” Callum announces, and Asher agrees.
“I’ll join you,” I offer, not minding the leg stretch. We’ve been stuck in a small studio all day. I could do with a bit of a walk.
“What is it with you Europeans and your walking everywhere?” Eden interjects.
“What’s wrong with walking?” I gaze at her.
“I guess nothing,” she replies. “If you don’t mind, I’ll head up for a shower. Thanks for taking Storm out, but if he begins to whimper, it means his hip hurts, and you should head back.”
“Got it,” Jagger picks up the leash hanging over the bar stool. “He’ll be fine with us.”
She nods and gives her dog one last look before leaving the room.
I grab my phone and wallet, following Jagger and Storm out the front door.
As soon as we step outside, the dog freezes, points his head towards the open gates, and growls.
Jagger and I stop, look in the direction, and catch a figure jumping out from the bushes and making a runner out the gates.
“Stay with the dog. Eden will kill us if we lose him,” I say fast and dash after the arsehole who must have been here spying on us the whole time. I chase him down the street, but as soon as I close in, I watch a motorbike approach him. He hops on, and they ride off.
What the fuck?
There are two of them?
“Did you catch his face?” I hear a heavy breath behind me and turn to find Jagger and Storm. Like me, both are panting.
“No. What the fucking fuck was that?”
“Callum said he was sure someone was here hiding the other day. And Eden told him some story about a strange fan approaching her while she was with Brittney.”
“Fuck. Stalker or old fan?” I ask.
“Dunno, mate. But Callum said she had real terror on her face. He’s never seen a person more frightened of her own shadow.”
“And Asher said she has night terrors almost every other night. His room is closest to hers, so he hears her.”
“I reckon this will send her packing back to the desert.”
“Then we don’t tell her and increase the security here.”
“Starting from keeping those gates shut.”
“Maybe look into getting a bodyguard. I didn’t think we needed them. But if old fans begin to get word we’re back together making music, it might attract some unwarranted attention.”
“Agree. The less Eden gets freaked out, the better.”