Chapter Twenty-Seven
LUNAR
May
We’ve been in China for a few days on the Asian leg of the tour.
Danger and I are blissfully happy in our bubble.
Recoil is performing great and is being received exceptionally well by its Asian fans.
Danger has just performed at the Beijing National Stadium, also known as the Bird’s Nest, in a packed-out stadium, and the crowd was crazy.
We thought the Aussies loved them. Well, it seems the Asians really dig their sound, and it also appears that, with the hype of me helping my family and brother through the foundation, plus Techie's statement that I have no affiliation with the MC, the public has gone from shunning me to loving me.
It’s been a complete one-eighty.
Things haven’t been a complete breeze, though. Seeing Nate for the first time was strange, and when Danger, Nate, and I are in the same room, tensions are always high. But Nate keeps to himself now, knowing I’m not going to budge.
When I first saw Effa, I had to resist the urge to lash out. I wanted to rip out her hair and claw at her eyes, but then I reminded myself she didn’t actually do anything wrong. She was simply being his friend when he needed her the most.
So, I should be grateful to her. And I am. We are getting along okay. We have to, considering they have joined us on the Asia leg of the tour as Recoil’s opening band. Danger didn’t want to find another opening band, and their collaboration is so seamless that it seems foolish to stop the momentum.
As we’re about to leave the Bird’s Nest, I hold onto Danger’s arm, heading for the exit.
They are on a high from their performance tonight, and we’re on our way to the after-party.
When the doors open and Kane steps out, his posture is rigid.
His tension puts me on high alert because if your bodyguard is tense, there’s a reason.
We approach the parking area. The limousine is a short distance away, but just off to the side is a group of girls.
Danger glances at me, then at Ryan. “Flank her, Ry,” Danger orders.
They stand on either side of me while we try to walk to the car, but it’s of no use. One of the girls turns around, spots us, and screams so loudly that I actually jump.
“Get to the car,” Kane calls out.
We move at a fast pace toward the car, but the girls are quicker and block our path.
They scream, mobbing around us as their hands claw at Danger and the guys while they surround and protect me.
The girls push and pull as all of us are tossed around like a damn washing machine.
My heart races, the scene in front of us like something you would see in a freaking movie.
This is not reality.
Is it?
Kane and another couple of guys try to pull back some of the over-the-top manic girls, but one of them spots me through the blockade of the guys. “Oh my God, it’s Lunar… the whore,” she calls out.
All heads pivot in my direction, and my muscles tense as they converge, breaking through Ryan’s defenses and grabbing, yanking, and tearing at my clothes.
My heart slams against my chest as I struggle, trying to push them off.
They unite in their craziness, all the girls reaching for me at the same time.
I scream as they yank me so hard my shoulder jerks, and they drag me away from Danger, his frantic protests doing nothing in the chaos.
My top rips, exposing my bra, and a couple of girls at the back pull out their cells, the flash of their camera phones making my eyes instantly water while I cuss under my breath, trying to yank my top back on while still fighting the girls off me.
Another girl shrieks in my face, her wild actions startling me as she slams her hand across my cheek, leaving behind a stinging scratch. I flinch back and hear Danger yelling, but they hold us apart.
Then, a violent tug on my hair wrenches my head to the side so forcefully it elicits a sharp yelp, my knees giving out before I collapse to the ground with the searing pain. My knees graze the pebbles, and my shorts offer no protection.
Kane finally manages to break free from the swarm, swooping in, pushing the girls aside almost aggressively, and scooping me from the ground.
My breathing is rushed as I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to him desperately, needing his support, while he races with me toward the car.
“I got you, Lunar. Hang in there.” His words offer me little comfort while hands continue to grapple at my back, ripping my top even more, before Kane reaches the car.
He wrenches open the door and practically shoves me inside. “Stay there. Do not get out!” he demands, slamming the door shut and positioning himself in front of it like a guard dog.
Panting for breath as the screaming continues outside the car, my hand moves up to my pulsating cheek.
The warm liquid tickles my fingers before I pull back to see traces of blood.
“Fucking lunatics,” I state, moving closer to the door to stare out the window, but I can’t see anything past Kane’s bulky frame.
I want to know if Danger’s okay.
The screams are like nails on a chalkboard, each one making me a little more anxious than the last. I don’t know if my heart can take much more of this insanity. My breathing is becoming increasingly too fast as I press my forehead to the window to try to see something—anything!
My head is starting to feel foggy, and my eyes are blinking rapidly. Finally, Kane steps aside, the door opening quickly.
Quickly, I shuffle out of the way to let the guys inside.
Nate jumps in, followed by Matt, Ryan, and lastly, Danger. The door slams, and I think I’m hyperventilating.
No, I know I’m hyperventilating.
Oh God, I can’t breathe!
When Danger sees me, his nostrils flare, his face turns red, and he slides over to my side, his hand moving up to the scratches on my cheek. “What did they do to you?” he asks, leaning in and kissing my forehead tenderly.
Instantly, the panic I was experiencing begins to subside the second he touches me, and I ease into his arms. With his presence, my breathing slows, and my head clears.
He smells like Danger, all woody and sweaty from the show.
Just how I like him.
Letting out a long exhale, my hands run up his chest, clenching his ripped shirt. “I’m fine. I was more concerned about you.”
He scoffs. “Worried about me? They fucking tore your face open and ripped your clothes, Lunar. This is not okay.” Danger spins in the seat. “Kane, what in the fucking hell happened out there? Why wasn’t this predicted? Why didn’t we have more damn security?”
I cuddle into his side while he continues to rant, and Ryan hands me his jacket. I place it over my top so Nate will stop staring at my exposed bra. The fucking creep.
Kane’s jaw clenches, surveying the damage. His expression is tight with anger and frustration. “I don’t know. We should have been prepared for this. I will investigate. You have my word.”
“It’s not good enough,” Danger states, his voice seething with anger. “We need answers. This should never have happened.”
Fear lingers despite his reassurances, a reminder of the chaos that unfolded around us.
“That was fucking crazy,” Ryan murmurs just before the car takes off.
The girls bang on the outside windows, still trying to get in as we slowly crawl through the mass of hysteria.
“You will hire more security, Kane,” Danger demands. “We need better protection. But importantly, Lunar needs a security detail,” Danger declares.
Furrowing my brow, I lift my head. “I don’t need a whole security det—”
“Yes, you fucking do! End of story.”
I simply nod. There is little I can say right now to calm Danger.
We will discuss it when he’s more rational.
The car radio is switched on, and a Recoil song is playing. I smile, looking up at Danger, and he finally turns his scowl into a slight smile. I nudge his side, and we all chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
It’s amazing how Recoil couldn’t get any airtime anywhere, and now, with the right team behind them, their songs are being played in Australia and Asia, and they’re huge.
“Let’s go back to the hotel and have the after-party there,” Matt offers.
“Agreed,” Danger replies.
The others dip their chins and say, “Fuck, yeah.”
I don’t want to go to a club the way I look right now anyway. Let alone the fact that I’m still shaking and unsettled from what happened.
We head back to the hotel, and I pull on Ryan’s jacket and zip it up before exiting the car—there’s no way I am walking around half-dressed because, let’s face it, the paparazzi will love it.
We head upstairs to Matt’s room, and on the way, Danger grabs a first aid kit to tend to my face.
The rest of the guys order booze and have takeout delivered to the room.
With nothing to do tomorrow, we’ll party it up tonight. And we’ve just had one hell of a weird night, so we deserve to let loose.
After Danger carefully cleans up my face in the bathroom, we head back out to the main bedroom, where the party is now in full swing. Finger food sits on the cabinet, and a cart of booze is stationary in the middle of the floor.
Matt’s cell is plugged into a portable speaker system, and the beats flow. It feels like our own private mini-club, and it’s far better than an actual after-party. It’s much cozier, with fewer weirdos and freaks to contend with.
I reach for a drink from the makeshift bar, and Danger stands beside me, munching on onion rings as we laugh at Ryan trying to impersonate Effa when she’s high.
It’s near one in the morning, so we’re probably pushing the limits with the noise, but this is the best the band has gelled together since I arrived on the scene.
It’s nice for us to be spending some quality time together.
There’s a faint knocking in the distance, and I look at Ryan, who furrows his brows like he’s hearing it too. He quickly moves to the music dock and turns it down. When the volume reduces, the door banging is quite loud.
“Not it,” Danger, Matt, Nate, and I all say in unison.
Ryan slumps with a loud groan. “Fucking hell! Why do I drink? It makes me so fucking slow,” he grumbles while walking to the door.
I know we are all thinking the same thing—our awesome party is about to be shut down.
Ryan pulls open the door, and as suspected, a hotel staff member is standing there.
“Why hello! How may we help you this fine evening, good sir?” Ryan asks, aiming for a smooth delivery, but his slurring only makes him sound drunker than he is. I can’t help but giggle.
The man scowls but then notices the rest of us. I wave, and Danger grabs my hand and holds it as if to tell me not to bring any attention to the room. I stiffen and lean back into Danger, waiting for the guy to talk.
He clears his throat and sighs. “Due to your outstanding patronage, Recoil has officially been upgraded to the Penthouse suite. The suite has five separate bedrooms, and we’d like to move you in there now.
You’ll have a butler service, a bar, and a food package available.
The penthouse takes up the whole floor, so noise restrictions won’t be a problem. ”
Ryan’s head swivels back toward us with deliberate slowness, his mouth forming a wide grin, and his eyes widen with excitement.
“Penthouse suite, bitches!” he yells, and the room explodes into cheers and celebration.
The hotel staff member hands Ryan a key card set and continues explaining what we need to do.
“C’mon, baby, let’s go pack our stuff,” Danger states.
Nate stands, walking with us. “This is fucking awesome! Only big bands get the penthouse, Danger. Are we really that big now?”
It’s the most civil I’ve seen them. A stark departure from the usual turmoil that simmers beneath the surface. This is a refreshing change—perhaps there is a glimmer of hope for their relationship.
Danger pats his shoulder. “Fucking yeah, we are.”
Ryan turns to us and hands out the key cards for the penthouse. “He said everything will be there when we arrive. More food, more drinks, everything. I’m gonna grab some shit. Meet you up there, fuckers,” Ryan announces, then turns, exiting Matt’s room and heading for our individual rooms.
Once inside our room, Danger grabs me, excitedly pulling me to him. “I think we’re finally making it, Lunar.”
“No, babe… you’ve made it,” I tell him honestly.
A bright smile lights his face as he holds me tight, and I have to say, I’m so fucking glad I am here to witness the rise of Recoil.