Page 42 of Enjoying the Band in Lockdown

“Kiss her now, for ten minutes. You can do it here, in the beer garden. Hell, you can take her in the middle of the street for all I care. You have ten minutes to kiss the shit out of her and then I don’t want to see you fucking near her again until tomorrow night. I’m starting to trigger every time that bloody clock chimes on the hour, looking around and hoping not to see the two of you in the same room. It was cute at first. Amusing at second but now it’s beyond a point.”

“I get the advantage and I get to kiss the girl?

“Then you can’t touch her again until it’s your turn.”

“Actually,” I hesitated. Hoping Xavier and Devon would back me, but even if they didn’t, it was my body. “I don’t want ten minutes of being kissed by Jax. I don’t want him to kiss me at all. It would be unfair.”

“How’d you figure that?” Jax asked, his lips moist, full and ready to be kissed. For once, my brain ruled, and my body had to comply.

“Well, when Xavier beats you tonight, you’ll say that it’s because you turned me on with your kisses. I think it’s unfair, to both of you. So no more kissing on the hour shit. It’s over.”

“Took you long enough,” Jax blew me a kiss in good humor.

“What?”

“You could have asked me to stop at any time but didn’t. It took you long enough.”

“You are a real bastard.”

“A bastard that knows how you like to be kissed, without having to be told.”

The first few times the clock chimed on the hour, Xavier claimed exaggerated kisses to the amusement and jibes of the other guys, even Jax.

“My man.”

“My woman.”

“Can’t wait until tonight. Ready to bring you’re A-game?”

“I don’t have any other kind.”

We cruised into the afternoon, laughing as Devon fought Trent over a new solo for Scream it Green. Devon won, like the champion of all things needing to be conquered that he was.

A constant stream of pizzas found their way out to the oven and no one seemed to mind when Xavier and I offered to babysit the food.

“Mate, you’ve gotta hear this!” Trent interrupted Xavier’s trip down memory lane. Apparently, reliving the last time he’d spent time with Deacon and his father could wait. The Flying Monkeys needed their lead singer!

“Okay,” Trent mock emceed. “Introducing the man who could silence Devon. The man who traded in his beautiful brunette for a dirty blonde. I give you the man who can make anyone scream it green, on the drums, Chase.”

With Devon leading him in on the keyboard, Chase owned the stage. Even I could hear brilliance. Building the crescendo. Giving the song its wings.

Within a minute, all five guys came together. Inspired jam session. Feeding off each other. Offering suggestions and building on the rendition from seconds before. Without asking, I pulled out my phone to start recording. One day, they may look back on this moment as a turning point. All the shit and arguments from the past month set aside.

For the first time, I understood why The Flying Monkeys were a band. When it came to the crunch and to their music, they were one.

During the middle of Chase’s drum solo, Xavier left the mock studio and jogged upstairs without a word. For a moment, the guys looked to each other, shrugged before ignoring the gap on their mock stage and kept playing. Jax and Devon stepping up for vocals. Treating me to a one-person concert.

Almost an hour later, Xav came downstairs at quarter speed. Still scratching at a notepad. He didn’t need an explanation, the guys knew. Crowding around Xav and the table while I made myself useful by topping up jugs of soda.

“How’s this?” Trent played a couple of chords while Chase turned a chair into a drum. Tapping out a beat while Xavier recited lyrics that didn’t exist an hour ago.

He’d written a song in less than an hour.

“What about adding something like this?” Devon winced as he pushed his injured hand further than any doctor would allow. His hands flying over the keys.

Even though I’d seen them perform magic before, it felt surreal watching as these guys could hear the music before it existed. I’d started recording the moment Chase and Trent created the bass foundation. The more they all played and collaborated, the more ideas I got for social media. Even if this song went nowhere, the footage would be lit.

Who’d be able to resist a behind-the-scenes look at songs being created? The Flying Monkeys had a small but vocal fanbase and after the online concert, women would be lining up for any and all content.

---