Chapter 24
24
AGE 20
“ W hat happened with you and the princess at the Skyline?” Jamie asks as we stand off to the side on our own at the venue where The Frames are playing. Ash, Cat, Vivien, and Ro are a few feet behind us. This is an all-standing event, and it’s a full-capacity crowd, but we’re in the gold circle meaning we’re not too squashed and we’re close to the stage with a great view. I’m not surprised. Only the best for the Hollywood princess after all.
“She pissed me off,” I truthfully reply, tagging a swig from the naggin of whiskey Ash snuck into the venue in her knickers.
Things had been going great today until the subject of Reeve Fucking Lancaster came up. I told Vivien I know who she is. It was going to come out at some point. I thought I’d get it out of the way at the outset so it’s one less obstacle between us. But then it turned into a row when I brought up those fucking roses and her so-called ex. She got snippy. I got pissy, and here we are.
Jamie chuckles before grimacing as he takes a mouthful of cheap beer. “Pissing her off all the time won’t help you get into her knickers.”
“Who said I want to get into her knickers?”
He tosses me a lopsided grin. “You can’t still be in denial. This is me, fucker.” He jabs me in the ribs. “I’m your best mate. I know when you want someone, and you want her.”
I decide to come somewhat clean. “I don’t just want in her knickers.”
“I know that too.”
I arch a brow in silent question.
He smirks. “You two have been eye fucking one another from the start. It’s clear neither of you are looking for a one-night stand. It’s as obvious as the nose on both your faces.”
“I don’t think my little brother got the memo.”
Jay sighs. “The poor fucker. I hope she lets him down gently.”
“He’ll be over her by the next day. You know how Ro is.”
“I don’t know.” He runs his fingers through the bristle on his chin. “I think Grace Mills has done a number on both O’Donoghue men.”
I fucking hope not, for both our sakes. Things are already complicated enough.
Sometimes, I really wish I’d told Jamie what happened with Simon Lancaster when I was seventeen. I hate lying to him by default, but I can’t bring it up now. Jamie is still all cut up about Shauna. His oldest sister—and only sibling—died of a brain aneurysm last year.
It was completely unexpected and came out of the blue. Jamie was in a bad way for months. Almost got kicked out of Trinners for not going to class. Passed his summer exams by the skin of his teeth. He threw himself into the music and the band lifestyle in much the same way I did at seventeen, albeit much less self-destructive.
Now, his parents’ marriage is hanging by a thread. Although no one would be surprised if they finally went their separate ways, I know it’d hurt Jay. As crappy as his parents are, they’re the only blood family he has left. Them splitting up now, after all the pain they put their kids through, would be like a kick in the teeth.
So, yeah, I can’t tell Jay even if lying to him doesn’t sit right with me.
Same goes for my family for different reasons. If I told the truth now, Ma and Da would beg me to attend therapy and find a way to let it all go. Ro would want me to take the money so we could use it for the band. Ash would beat my ass for involving her new best friend in my revenge plans. Not sure where my older brothers would land. But it doesn’t matter because I can’t tell them, and at this point, I most likely never will. It’s not like anything good would come from spilling the beans after all this time.
“Earth to fuckface.” Jamie clicks his fingers in my face. “You totally spaced out, mate.”
“I’ve a lot on my mind,” I admit as the first opening act runs onto the stage, encouraged by a loud roar from the crowd.
“I’m here for ya.” Jamie clamps his hand on my shoulder and squeezes.
The next three hours fly by. The gig is incredible. All the bands were great, but The Frames killed it. Jay and I kept to ourselves, and the others only sought us out at the end so Vivien could surprise us with backstage passes.
Ro is about to come in his boxers. He’s bouncing all over the place like a kid on a sugar high. I’m clenching my hands and growling every time he picks Vivien up and swings her around.
“You look like you’re seconds away from beating the shit out of your little bro.” Jamie elbows me in the ribs. “Relax, mate. She’s not into him.”
Then why is she letting him touch her all the time?
“Why do you look so fucking grumpy?” Ash asks, looping her arm through mine as we make our way to the backstage entrance. “Aren’t you excited?”
“You’d swear we were meeting the fucking queen.”
Ash rolls her eyes, dragging me along. “I know you hate all the celebrity bullshit, but you respect and admire The Frames. Bond with them over music, Dil. This is an opportunity to make some important contacts. Try to pull that stick out of your arse long enough not to blow things, yeah?”
Forcing thoughts of Vivien from my mind, I do as my sister suggests. I owe it to Toxic Gods to make the most of this chance. The guys are down to earth and not your stereotypical band. It’s not hard to gel with them. Over the course of a couple hours, we talk music and the industry over a few beers.
I turn a blind eye when Ash slips out of the green room holding hands with one of the crew, like how I ignore the clearly pissed-off look on Jamie’s face when she disappears out of sight. Cat and Vivien stick close together, and I never lose sight of the princess even when we’re deep in conversation with The Frames. A few crew members approach her, not shy in expressing interest. I’m hugely relieved when she dismisses all of them with a gracious smile.
On the way home in the taxi, I shoot Glen Hansard from The Frames an email with a copy of our EP. He said he wants to listen to it, and it didn’t seem like he was just being polite. Still, I’m a little shocked when he reaches out first thing the next morning to say he has already listened to it, and he’s impressed. He has a few contacts in Ireland and L.A., and he’s going to reach out to some people and then pass on their details. It’s extremely generous of him, and I only respect him more for it.
“Let me look at you.” Ma grips my forearms, inspecting me from head to toe in the kitchen of our farmhouse.
“Looks like the same troublemaker to me,” Shane quips, flipping me the bird behind Ma’s back.
“You look thinner. Are you eating enough?”
“Ma, you say this every time I come for Sunday dinner. I eat plenty. Stop worrying.” I kiss the top of her head as Shane’s fiancée, Fiona, appears in the kitchen holding their three-year-old daughter in her arms.
“Uncle Dil-Dil,” Chloe screeches, wriggling out of her mum’s arms. Her brown curls bounce up and down as she races towards me.
I crouch down and open my arms.
She flings herself at me, and I bundle her up, inhaling the strawberry scent from her hair and the warmth from her little body. “Me missed you,” she says, peppering my face with wet kisses as I stand with her in my arms.
“Missed you too, little munchkin.” I tweak her nose, and she giggles. “Tell me all your news, cutie.”
“I got my last toof. Look!” She parts her lips with her fingers, pointing at a row of cute little baby teeth.
“Well done, princess.”
She squirms in my arms. “I gotta show Uncle Ran.” It’s what she calls Ciarán. I’m chuckling as I set her down on her feet and she instantly crawls into my brother’s lap, showing him her teeth.
“Where are the others?” Shane asks, pouring water into his glass from the jug. I stand behind where he’s seated at the large table, pressing my body against the wall. Ma has joined Fiona in the kitchen, and they’re tending to dinner. Da has his nose stuck in the Irish Farmers Journal , but he did acknowledge me when I first arrived. Ciarán and his long-term girlfriend Susie are engaging my little niece.
“They should be here in a sec,” I say, just as Jabba and Chewie start barking like crazy out the front, heralding their arrival.
“Uncle Ro and Auntie Ash are here!” Chloe squeals, rushing past me on chubby little legs out into the hall. As much as I adore my little niece, my sore head does not appreciate her exuberance today. I might have had a few too many beers with The Frames last night, and I’m paying for it today.
Ma walks after her granddaughter, untying her apron as she goes.
“You didn’t travel together?” Shane asks, but I purposely ignore him, walking over to sit in Susie’s seat when she gets up to go to the toilet.
“Hey, bro.”
“Dil.” Ciarán eyeballs me curiously as he swipes a piece of brown bread from the basket and puts it on his side plate. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I was, ugh…” I rub the back of my neck, wondering why this is so hard to get out. I clear my throat and try again. “I was hoping to talk to you after dinner about something. If you have time.”
“Color me intrigued.” He grins as he butters his bread. “Course, I have time. We’re heading over to Susie’s parents’ gaff later, but we can talk before I leave.”
“Cool. Thanks.” The chair scrapes across the tile floor as I get up.
Ro walks in with Chloe in his arms a few minutes later as I round the table and reclaim my spot against the wall. He lets her down, and she runs to help her mum in the kitchen. “Sup, bro.” Ro grabs me into a hug. “Glad you made it here alive. You’re a stupid fucker for getting on that bike so hungover.”
“What the fuck, Dil?” Shane sends daggers at me as he rakes an angry gaze over me from head to toe.
My oldest brother hates that I have a bike. He lost a good friend to a motorbike accident when he was twenty-three, so I get it. Shane was very vocal in his protests at the time I was buying my Kawasaki. I know it comes from a good place, but I’m not in the mood for his shite today. “Don’t start, Shane. I’ve already got a headache.”
Tingles tiptoe up my spine, and there she is. The Hollywood princess. Looking like a vision in a pretty dress with minimal makeup and the cutest nervous smile. Vivien continues to nuke all the brain cells in my head, and she currently commands all the blood flowing to my dick. It’s some kind of voodoo magic because one look is all it takes sometimes to make me so hard I see fucking stars.
It seems I can’t stay mad at Vivien for long. This morning, despite my cautious excitement and tinge of trepidation, all I’m feeling is immense gratitude to her for organizing everything yesterday. I know she must have gone to a lot of trouble to set it all up, and she did it out of the goodness of her heart. I was a moody asshole for arguing with her and then giving her the silent treatment. And Jamie is right. I’ll never win her heart if I’m short-tempered and ignoring her all the time.
“You’re a dickhead,” Shane says, but I tune his rant out as I stare at Vivien while Ma makes the introductions.
Shane spouts more bullshit about my bike and how I’m too reckless blah, blah, blah. Then we’re all sitting down, tucking into our roast dinner. The conversation is lively, as usual, while we eat, and the topics are ever changing. We talk about the farm, Fiona and Shane’s impending summer wedding, and Ciarán’s job at Microsoft, and that leads into a conversation about L.A. Vivien visibly tenses, and it’s clear why. Ro misses all the obvious clues as he continues to bombard her with questions about her hometown, and she’s growing more uncomfortable by the second.
“I’m sure Grace is sick of everyone asking her about L.A.,” I interject when Ma is speaking. Vivien is literally sweating bullets by now as the talk turns to celebrities.
“The only celebrity your mother has ever gushed about is Lauren Mills,” Da says, suddenly deciding now is a great time to enter the conversation. And what the fuck? How did I not know Ma is a fan of Vivien’s mother?
Poor Vivien is noticeably paler as she squirms in her seat. I suspect the cat’s about to be let out of the bag. There’s no way Vivien will not mention who she is now. Ash offers her friend a sympathetic look before she asks our parents, “Why have I never heard about this?”
“I used to go see all her movies before I was married and had you lot. Then the farm and family responsibilities took over,” Ma explains as she starts clearing the table.
I stand. “Sit down, Ma. I’ve got it.” Taking the stack of plates from her arms, I walk over to the sink and set them down.
“You’re all too young to remember this,” Da says. “But one of her movies premiered at the Savoy in Dublin, back in the day, and rumors were rife that Lauren was going to be there. We got your nana over to mind you lot, and we headed into town early so we could see her.”
“Unfortunately, Lauren had to pull out,” Ma continues as I walk between the table and the sink, clearing away the dirty plates and cutlery. “Her daughter fell out of a tree and broke her arm. She didn’t want to leave her. As a mother, I respected her even more for that.”
Vivien looks a bit spaced out, and I’m guessing she’s probably reliving the moment.
“She’s a fine mother and a fine actress,” Da adds. He’s been a lot more talkative today than usual. He’s generally happy to absorb the atmosphere and listen to all of us talking and arguing on Sundays. You can always tell he’s quietly proud and just soaking it all up.
“Grace’s surname is Mills,” Ro says. “What a funny coincidence.”
Vivien looks petrified as she reaches for Ash and clears her throat. “Actually, it’s not really a coincidence.”
Ro frowns, and a quiet hush settles over the table. Expectant faces stare at our guest.
“You might as well tell them,” I say, running my fingers through my hair as I reclaim my position against the wall. I maintain eye focus and nod at her in what I hope are supportive gestures.
“Wait? You know?” Ash’s eyes widen as she stares between her friend and me.
“He saw the photo by my bed,” Vivien explains.
“So, you two are an item?” Shane asks, pointing between us, and I have a sudden urge to ram my fist in his annoying interfering face.
“No!” I say the same time as Ro and Vivien. I glare at Ro, and he glares right back.
“But you said?—”
“Shut up, Shane,” Ro and I snap, and this is getting ridiculous.
“My mom is Lauren Mills,” Vivien blurts, her voice betraying her anxiety. “I’m her only daughter, Vivien Grace.”