Page 56 of Enjoying the Band in Lockdown

We could all hear the arrogance when Jax sang. More pronounced than usual. Back to being the take-no-prisoners-but-fuck-their-women bastard who’d temporarily shown me a side that didn’t exist.

Xavier’s voice had found new depth; a darkness enveloped around his hurt pride and heart. Last night might have damaged us, destroyed him, but it had created a better artist.

I tried not to notice the growing stash of empty beer bottles by Xavier’s microphone. It didn’t seem to affect his singing, if anything it found a grunge, an edge. He sounded and looked hotter than even that first night when he’d been on stage and soaking up adoration from the female crowd. Xavier Galis, standing in a pub, surrounded by his band, was every bit the rock star. Every ounce of him my rock God, and yet he was no longer singing to me.

“No!” The crash of Chase’s microphone silenced Dirty Blonde. “I didn’t fucking agree to that.”

“We sing it my way.”

“It’s my song.”

“You started it, I finished it.”

“The solo’s mine.”

“I’m the lead singer. Why are we even having this discussion? I gave you a shot, you blew it.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“My solo sets a different mood. It’s true to the lyrics.”

“My version is true to the band. Unless you want us to become a bunch of pussy-whipped losers.”

“Takes a real man to be vulnerable.”

“You’d never fucking know.” Xavier’s microphone narrowly avoided becoming a missile directed at Chase’s head.

Trent and Devon played peace-makers, keeping the rehearsal on track while I became the invisible hostess. Topping up drinks and keeping up a steady supply of food. Again and again, they came back to the two versions of Dirty Blonde. They had less than a day to pick the solo before playing the song one last time for Deacon’s approval.

Each version gave the song a different feel. When Chase sang, my heart cried out for the man who lost his dirty blonde, I knew the world would fall in love with my brooding man, willing to spend the rest of his life trying to find her again.

But when Xavier sang, his gestures, eyes, entire body came together as a complete musical experience. Every man would have Dirty Blonde in his playlist, bringing it out for the woman he wanted to fuck against every surface. With Xavier, Dirty Blonde was raw, sensual. The closest thing to vocal porn. It was every person’s one-night stand.

Dirty Blondewas us.

“Sydney, what do you think?” Jax silenced the other four. Stepping forward to get my attention. The others sharing anxious glances between Xavier and me, waiting for any reaction.

“Did I give you permission to talk to me?” I had no pride left. Not after last night. The most I could do was try and put Jax in his place, and prove to Xavier that last night meant nothing. The clock meant nothing.

An orgasm meant nothing more than a physical reaction.

“Ah, baby, I don’t need permission to talk to you,” Jax sneered. His beauty, the most ugly thing I’d seen. “But I think your man over here could use your help in shaking off his loser tag.”

Xavier’s jaw twitched and fist clenched but Jax kept going. “Why don’t you tell baby bro here that Chase might as well take over as lead singer while your man drinks himself into oblivion and tries to find another dirty blonde to write a song about.”

I had to act quickly before Xavier’s fists had a conversation that ended all hope of the band surviving until the concert. I had to stop being the woman in love and become Professional Sydney. The woman who could package up and sell anything.

“No.”

“Poor, Xav. Even his woman doesn’t believe—”

“I’m not going to choose, your fans are.” I talked over Jax. Repeating until he shut the fuck up and the others listened. Trent and Devon were the first to start nodding.

“Say it again,” Devon shouted, rushing to the video camera and setting it up. “We won’t put you in the shot, but if you’re going where I think you are, we need to record Chase arguing with Xav, the challenge and our reaction. Sydney, you record. Guys, be natural, yeah?”

“Xav, please, trust me.” I pleaded while Devon set up the camera. “The two songs, they sound different depending on who sings them. Trust me?”

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