Chapter Seven
EFFA
Luke’s sitting across from me in the car, giving poor Raoul an earful for not keeping him in the loop.
Raoul doesn’t deserve this, he was only doing what I told him.
I sink deeper into the leather seat, which squeaks against my skin.
Wincing as Raoul glances over, I offer a look of apology.
He takes the telling-off like a champ, though.
Luke’s so wound up he needs to chill the hell out.
I know I should have told someone where I was going, but dammit, I’m twenty-two, not fucking sixteen.
I don’t need permission every time I leave a party.
Luke acts more like a protective big brother, and right now, he’s seriously working my last nerve.
Goddammit! Raoul’s copping the full brunt of it, and that’s not fair.
“Okay, Luke, seriously... chill the fuck out. It’s not Raoul’s fault. I asked him to bring me, and he stayed all night to keep me safe. He did a good job. Nothing happened. You should be thanking him, not ripping into him.”
Luke turns his glare on me, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Effa…” He sighs. “You think this is funny, but you’re a big-time rock star. And right now, you’re sitting in a car, in broad daylight, wearing nothing but your damn underwear. You don’t see a problem with that?”
I glance down at my matching purple bra and panties and shrug. “Nope. I actually think I look pretty good in this.”
Luke groans, leans back, and brings his phone up to his face, furiously tapping like he’s done with the conversation. I smirk at Raoul, who chuckles and turns to look out the window, wisely keeping quiet.
The car door beside me opens, and Alana slides in holding my boots and dress. She shuts the door and takes one long breath before glancing around. “Wow! Bit frosty in here,” she mutters.
I nod and roll my eyes toward Luke.
Alana raises an eyebrow. “Okay… well, Mercs told me to tell you he’s sorry. For what he said.”
My stomach sinks.
He wants to forget last night.
Like just erase it.
It was only a kiss, and we fell asleep curled up on a lumpy old sofa.
But still, it was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years.
Something about Mercs calms the chaos in me.
He grounds me, and I liked it. A lot. But if he wants to forget it ever happened, I guess whatever was starting between us is already over.
Alana drapes my dress over my lap, then grabs my hand and squeezes.
“Stop overthinking. Don’t go there. Don’t go to that place, Effa,” she murmurs.
I raise a brow. “What place?”
“That place where you lose your confidence, your sparkle. Don’t do it. You’ve worked hard to become Effervescent. Don’t let one guy rain on your parade.”
Luke glances up from his phone but says nothing.
“I’m okay, I promise,” I murmur. “I just… I don’t know. Mercs is different. The other crew guys practically throw themselves at us. He didn’t. That means something.”
Alana nods. “Even so. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“And how exactly are you gonna do that?” I chuckle as the car pulls away from the curb.
She clears her throat and sits up straighter. “Have you heard of the star Effervescent? She really is quite fluorescent. A hippie by day, a rebel, you’d say, she’s such an antidepressant,” Alana singsongs with a grin.
I burst out laughing. It’s missing her llama costume, but I don’t even care. She’s trying to cheer me up, and it works. She always knows what I need before I even realize it myself. I don’t know what I’d do without her or Kristy. These girls are my heart.
Luke lets out a snort, still glued to his phone, but casts Alana a sideways glance that borders on pride.
I lean over and wrap my arms around her tightly, holding her close. She hugs me back with just as much love.
“Thanks, sis. Your limericks never get old. You always know how to lift me up.”
She sighs and pulls back. “That’s what I’m here for. Always. I love you. But next time you decide to ghost everyone, at least tell someone. Or have Raoul text me.”
I nod, guilt pulling at my chest. I didn’t mean to scare them. If my phone hadn’t died, none of this would have happened. I get it, I’m the voice of this band, and I can’t just disappear. I have to be more responsible.
And now that Mercs has decided to shut the door, I have no excuse not to focus on Luminous.
No distractions.
No new friendships.
My heart twists at the thought of not seeing him again. Of not hearing his quiet sarcasm or feeling the calm in his arms.
But if forgetting me is what Kaden Mercury wants…
Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.
***
Mercs is doing my head in.
I can’t get him out of my fucking mind as I scrub the smudged pink lightning bolt off my face. Glitter and paint swirl down the drain in a glittery whirlpool of regret.
What’s he doing right now?
Groaning aloud, I duck my head under the hot stream, closing my eyes as the water pelts against my skin. Holding my breath, I let the last of the makeup rinse away, then pull back, swiping my hands down my face to clear the water from my eyes.
I should be excited for tonight’s show, but the thought of running into Mercs again makes my stomach twist. Things feel awkward now. Maybe I’m reading too much into what he said. Maybe his comment about forgetting it ever happened was simply a throwaway line?
But those kinds of words stick.
I want to remember everything in my life, especially the beautiful moments. Pretending they never happened feels like a slap in the face.
I know I’m probably overreacting. It’s just, he’s the first person outside my little circle who’s liked me for me, not just Effervescent, the persona. That matters to me more than I can admit.
Trying to ease my tension, I linger in the heat for a few more minutes before finally turning off the water and drying off. There’s still time before we need to head to the stadium, so I figure I’ll try to calm my thoughts and maybe grab some lunch.
To appease Luke, I’ll call Raoul or Cooper if I go out. No way am I staying cooped up like a sardine in this hotel room. That won’t help me find any kind of balance. I need to feel the world outside these walls and take a breath that’s mine.
I toss my damp hair into a loose braid—it’ll wave nicely for tonight’s show—and I head to my room to get dressed. I throw on a pair of loose, tie-dyed harem pants and pair them with a gold-dot backless halter. No makeup.
Simple.
Real.
Me.
Catching my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, I smile. This is Vespa Carrington—the barefoot girl from Nimbin, not the glam-rocker on tour. And even though I love being Effa, sometimes I need to find my way back to my roots, to remember who I really am underneath all the glitter.
Phone in hand, I head out.
The hallway art is modern and sleek, just like the rest of this upscale hotel. I grin as I step into the elevator, the cold marble under my feet reminding me how far I am from home.
By the time I reach the restaurant, it’s about ten-fifty—too late for breakfast, not quite lunch. Brunch it is.
A waitress gives me a once-over, nose wrinkling slightly before turning away. I just chuckle. Judgy looks are nothing new.
“Effa!”
A deep, booming voice cuts through the restaurant, making someone nearby drop their cutlery with a loud clang.
I turn, startled, then laugh as I spot Jett, the lead singer of Swift Division, sitting at a table, one plate already cleared and another half-eaten in front of him.
Luke had asked our label to find a solid American opener, and Swift Division had the perfect sound. We clicked right away at the meet and greet, and now they’re sharing our hotel.
I nod in greeting and head over. He’s the only familiar face in here, so why not brunch with him?
His sapphire-blue eyes light up when I approach, his bed-tousled black hair a perfect mess.
He wears it well. Even the scruff on his jaw suits him, causing his face to look more angular.
His grin is contagious. It’s easy to see why fans are already eating up his band.
“Hey, Jett, mind if I join you?” I ask, reaching for the chair across from him.
“Please do. I wanted to pick your brain anyway,” he says, motioning for me to sit.
I slide in as he crunches a strip of bacon between his teeth.
“Sure. What’s up?”
He looks me dead in the eyes, a smirk curling his lips with a mischievous edge. “So… we’ve been doing a thirty-minute slot before you gals come out, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, and you’ve been killing it too. The crowd loves you guys.”
He shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Thanks. But we’re still warming up to your level, we can only aspire to be as amazing as you.
Which brings me to my point…” He leans in slightly.
“What would you think about extending our set to forty-five minutes? Just a couple extra songs, really. I know it adds time to the whole show, but I think we could really showcase more of what we do. And with Luminous backing us, well, we’d be breaking through, just like Recoil did for you.
Wouldn’t that feel amazing, Effa? You could be the catalyst that shoots Swift Division into the stratosphere. ”
His voice is sweet.
Too damn sweet.
“Jett,” I say, lips quirking. “You don’t need to butter me up. I’m not some pushover princess who melts for compliments and charm.”
His shoulders stiffen, and his smile falters as he looks a little sheepish.
“And for the record, I can’t approve that kind of change anyway. That’s Luke’s call.”
Jett deflates with a heavy sigh.
“But…” I add, “I can put in a good word. Just… next time? Ask me straight. No need to pussyfoot around.”
His grin returns slowly. “You’re stronger than you look, you know that?”
I arch a brow. “You wouldn’t be the first guy to underestimate me. I might look like I live on stardust and daydreams, but I see more than people realize.”
He laughs, the air between us clearing again. “All right, Effa. Honesty and trust. Deal. Let me grab you some food to seal our new friendship.”
I smile and nod. “I’ll get the coffee.”
“Perfect.”