Chapter Five
NATE
After a restless sleep, I’m grouchy heading into the office, but Matt appears to be his usual chirpy self, oblivious to my fucked up mood.
Even though I had a great time with Ria yesterday, after Matt’s dig when I got home, I feel like I’m not good enough for her or, for that matter, anyone right now, and it stings. My mind can’t seem to let it go.
Once we arrive, my first stop is the kitchen for some much-needed caffeine. I’m hopeful a strong cup of coffee will help perk up my mood.
“Morning, didn’t sleep well?” Tillie asks.
Raising an eyebrow, I tilt my head. “How’d you know?”
She smirks. “The black circles under your eyes are a little bit of a giveaway. But the real giveaway is the fact that your buttons aren’t lined up correctly.”
I look down at my shirt. “Fuck.”
She pats my shoulder. “Anything you wanna talk about?”
“Um… yeah. When’s filming starting for the music video?”
She smiles. “This time next week. But Zaria will come in a couple of days beforehand to talk through the theme of the clip and wardrobe, etcetera.”
“Okay, great. And thanks for making this happen, Tillie.”
She shrugs. “It was your idea. So I should be thanking you.”
With a grin, I grab my coffee and pat her shoulder as I head off toward the studio, where the rest of the band is currently waiting for a practice session.
Walking in, Ryan, Matt, and Danger are set up, ready to rehearse. I take a moment to sip my coffee.
“Looking rather disheveled this morning, Nate. You have a messy night?” Ryan asks.
“Nah, just need caffeine and to bash it out on the kit, then I’ll be right.”
Matt looks at me, and I dip my chin in his direction, letting him know I’m okay before I sit behind my kit.
Oliver walks in, garnering our attention. “Morning, all. You guys ready to rehearse “I’ll Take Your Breath Away?” ” We all nod, and then I place the mug of coffee down next to my foot pedal. “Okay, let’s get right to it then.”
Oliver counts us in. With the 4/4 timing, I begin.
The song is slow, but the rhythm is anything but mellow, with flams and paradiddles placed sporadically throughout.
I slam my sticks hard on the toms, the wood banging against the skin with a heavy beat.
The vibration fills my veins with the love I have for percussion, and the bass drum reverberates through my soul as I do the double beats quickly, without pause.
I’m skilled at what I do, and I know not just anyone can play the drums well, let alone at my caliber.
With pride, I own my craft. Mixing it with the sounds of Ryan’s guitar flowing through me, Matt’s bass vibrating against my skin, and Danger’s voice echoing around the room, it makes for a stirring experience.
We may not always see eye to eye, and there are days I question how I truly fit in, but overall, I love this band.
Being a part of something this damn special fills me with a deep sense of fulfillment.
My arms glide effortlessly over the kit, striking each piece right on time, every time.
The tension in each movement has my muscles flexing and stretching.
Glancing up, I see Tillie and Lunar watching from the sound booth, and I can’t help but wonder what Ria would think if she were here—seeing my muscles flex, hearing us live, feeling the raw power behind the music.
Would she melt like all the other girls do?
But more than that, would she find me attractive while I play?
ZARIA
In my living room, thinking about Nate, I wonder what he’s doing right now as I skim through a possible script.
It’s terrible. I mean, a woman and her dog on Mars?
Her dog? Really? Some stories are just too far-fetched to be anything but dribble.
With a huff, I toss the script onto the coffee table just as the doorbell rings.
I purse my lips, wondering who the hell it could be—though a part of me silently hopes it’s Nate.
As I walk to the door, the cold marble under my bare feet is familiar, a sensation I’m used to. At home, I prefer to go barefoot since I spend so much time in heels when I’m out.
Opening the door, I sigh when I see my mother standing there. Her jet-black hair frames her face perfectly, while her oversized sunglasses crowd it. Her bright red lipstick looks too young for her, but she smiles warmly, which helps me smile in return.
“Ria… darling,” she gushes, rushing forward and taking me into an embrace.
I kiss both cheeks while hugging as we’ve become accustomed to—like fucking posh people. “Mom, what are you doing here?”
She pulls back with a scoff. “Well, it’s nice to see you too.”
Rolling my eyes, I stand back to let her pass. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I wasn’t expecting you. I’m surprised, is all.”
“I know, darling. I’m only teasing. I wanted to check in on you to make sure you’re making the correct decisions for your future.”
Furrowing my brows at her strange words, I shake my head. “I’m not following?” After closing the door, I lead us down and into the living room.
“Well, darling, I heard you were doing a music video with some band. Why would you want to do that? They’re not that famous this band. I mean, you could go for Staked or 12GAUGE-Slayed, a band with more popular appeal?”
I roll my eyes. “Colter Slade is too old, and Staked is English, Mom. I don’t want to leave the States. Plus, Recoil approached me, and they’re lovely, and they are famous in their own right.”
“Well, doesn’t matter how lovely they are, now does it? The question is, are they going to boost your career?”
“Mom, I’ve won three Oscars. I’m pretty sure I’m boosting them. But I’m getting paid for it, so that’s all that matters, right?”
“Yes, but don’t fall for the lead singer like you did in the past. It was a big mistake, Ria. Rockers are always users and abusers. Remember my words?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “The lead singer is in a happy, committed relationship, Mom. So no need to worry there.”
“That won’t stop him from falling for you. You’re stunning, Ria.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mom.”
“I’m not, Ria. Just don’t break up their relationship.”
“Jesus, Mom, what makes you think I would break up a happy relationship?”
“Kade? Backlash… ringing any bells for you?”
I groan. “Oh God! One goddamn mistake means I’m always going to go for lead singers, doesn’t it?”
“Habits are hard to break, Ria.”
“One lead singer doesn’t form a habit, Mom.”
“Okay! Remember this conversation when you two are getting all cozy and personal.”
“The only time I’ll be getting cozy and personal with Danger is when we’re filming. That’s it. I swear. I’ve been spending time with the drummer, though.”
“My God, Ria! Drummers are worse. They’re dumb and drug lords!”
“Drug lords, Mom? Really?” I try to hold in a laugh, but I am not successful.
“I would not lie to you, Ria.”
With a long, drawn-out sigh, I stand in frustration. “Mom, you gotta go!”
“Ria! Be sensible, be smart, be safe.”
“Yes, Mom.” I grab her shoulders and lead her out of the room to the front door. She swings the door open and steps out to the bright, sunny day.
“Ria, you know I love you and only have your best interests at heart.”
“I know, Mom. I love you too.”
Leaning in, I kiss each of her cheeks, and she turns around and walks off to her convertible.
With a deep breath, I roll my eyes behind her back as she slides gracefully into her car, and I watch as she drives off in the bright red Maserati Patrick obviously bought her as some sort of gift for something.
I think back to where we came from. The rags-to-riches story of our lives.
If only my Abba—my father—could see us now.
He’d hate who we’ve become. Who we’ve turned into.
Yes, he’d be proud of me and all I’ve accomplished in my life.
But this lavish lifestyle—it’s not our way.
We’re not materialistic. He didn’t raise me to be about the money the way my mother is now.
He would be turning in his grave to witness such a thing.
It’s times like this that make me think about giving this all up, but Mom wants and suits this lifestyle.
She’s good with Patrick. She lived a hard life in Israel growing up—practically living on the streets, begging for food for her family.
Coming here and making a life for us was right for her.
I’m not ungrateful, not at all. I just know my Abba would most definitely not approve.
With a sigh, I think about how I’m going to handle the acting part of the music video with Danger. Considering my past with Kade, I’ve had a no-go zone around me with regard to rock stars.
But I like Nate.
He doesn’t exhibit the typical bad-boy, douchebag rock star persona so many of them do. He’s different—grounded, unaffected by the noise, the kind of man who doesn’t need to prove himself to the world. And maybe that’s why he unsettles me.
Dating a rock star didn’t work out the first time, but maybe this time will be different. Perhaps he could shift the narrative, not that I need help staying relevant. I am a headliner. My name alone commands attention. My reputation, meticulously built. My career, still at its peak.
So why does this feel like a risk?
Because Nate doesn’t fit into the life I’ve crafted. He’s younger. Unexpected. A wildcard that the press will sink their teeth into, dissecting every moment, every touch, every glance, turning it into a spectacle.
Do I want that? Can I afford that?
More importantly… do I care?
Because with him, the cameras, the whispers, the headlines—they all feel secondary. And that terrifies me more than any career move ever has.
I make my way over to the notebook Nate was working in yesterday and look at the doodles of doves. He’s artistic and should further develop his art.
I wish I could spend the day with him again, but I have to go to the studio to see Patrick and talk to him about my next film—the one I’m co-starring with Liam Hemsworth.
I’m a sucker for an Aussie accent.
I decide to send Nate another quick text to let him know I’m thinking of him, so I grab my cell and send him another picture of a clownfish. My lips turn up in a smile at my symbol for him, and as I go to put my cell in my bag, it rings.
Glancing at the number, it’s Nate. I’m a little shocked as I didn’t expect him to call. Swiping the screen, I answer with, “Hey!”
“Hey. I wasn’t sure if that was your code for asking me to call you or just a general hi, so I thought I’d better call… just in case.”
With a little giggle like a silly schoolgirl, I say, “Well, it was more of a “Hi,” but I’m glad you called. I can’t talk for long. I have to head into the studio. But do you wanna come over tomorrow for another tutoring session?”
“Yeah, sure, sounds good. Can I bring anything?”
“Nope, just yourself, and be prepared to learn!”
He chuckles, and the sound is like heaven to my ears. It shocks me slightly that I have even thought that, and as soon as it does, my skin litters with goose bumps.
“Sure. I seem to be able to absorb it a lot easier than I have with other people who’ve tried tutoring me in the past.”
“I’m glad I can help.”
“Thanks for being so cool about this.”
“What are friends for?”
I feel proud that I’m able to help him when it seems no one else can.
And maybe we are both learning something here.