Page 33 of Reflex
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DEATHSCYTHE STUDIOS, ENGLAND.
“You’ve worked with Black Halo, haven’t you?”Ronnie Bush muttered around a mouthful of bacon butty.
Allegra, still bleary-eyed from a night of broken sleep, squinted at him as she finished pulling her bright red hair back into a messy knot.Ronnie, as he so often did, sat draped, lounge lizard like, sideways across one of the two swivel chairs in the sound suite, his legs crooked over the arm, with his phone in one hand and the remains of his breakfast in the other.The cloying scent of bacon grease wafted up from the scrunched paper wrapper he’d left on top of the main control board.Ronnie was sweet, but he was also an animal with zero respect for property, his environment, or personal space.Luckily for him, none of those things mattered much in his chosen career, or at least they were massively outweighed by his bubbleicious butt, a not bad singing voice, and the sort of smile that knocked women of every generation for six.
“Yes, I’ve worked with Black Halo,” she responded.Also, was in fact engaged in a semi-almost-not-quite-really relationship with one of the band, but she kept that titbit to herself.Relationships were personal, had no bearing on her work, and what she had going on with Spook Mortensen wasn’t enough of a something to weather commentary.There would be commentary.Ronnie liked nothing better than to talk at length about celebrities.
Alle’s guts knotted again, as they’d been doing all night, but she resisted the urge to check her phone just in case she’d missed a call or a message from Spook.The device was set to full volume and vibrate.She’d have known if he’d reached out.
Oblivious to her predicament, Ronnie skated his chair towards her.“Good.Then you’ll want to know all the latest.”He flashed her that ridiculously wide and effusive grin of his that normally would have had her grinning back.Today, she only managed a tired smile.
Ronnie liked to start the day with a rundown of all the salacious celebrity gossip.He particularly liked to focus on bands… rock bands, metal bands, the occasional boy band member let off the leash.Keeping an eye on the competition, he called it.Being a nosey busybody was what she called it, but she couldn’t deny it made for a relatively gentle start to the day.Leastways, normally it did.After the night she’d had, not so much.She didn’t want to discuss the ins and outs of people’s lives.She was only interested in one life – Spook’s.When they took a coffee break, maybe she’d ignore Xane’s warning and call Spook rather than waiting for him to make the next move.“I’m guessing you haven’t seen what went down last night?”Ronnie was squinting at her like he was trying to figure something out, but his expression relaxed the moment her head came up, and her gaze met his.
“What happened?Did someone get hurt?”She tried to make it sound like she had zero inside knowledge.Really, she didn’t.Xane hadn’t stayed on the line long when she’d told him Spook was in trouble, and his later text had been frighteningly abrupt.He’d promised everything was all right, but hell, she wasn’t so sure she believed him.
She and Spook touched base every evening, and frequently during the day too, if he was stuck on a tour bus—like he was set to be today –and she wasn’t working her socks off in the sound booth – he knew she was, so perhaps that’s why he was silent.
“You all right?”Ronnie asked.“You seem a bit rumpled today.I got you a croissant if you’re hungry.”
Ronnie shoved the paper bag from off the soundboard into her face.“Eat it.You look like you could do with the sugar rush.You can have some of my slushie too, if you like.”
“Uh, no.”She pushed both offerings away, her stomach threatening to revolt at the idea of food.
Ronnie sniffed, and popped the straw of his icy drink into his mouth.His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked, revealing twin dimples.“Something’s up with you today.”
“If you mention PMS I’m going to make you sound like Alvin and the Chipmunks or the Smurfs.Either, both, maybe a combination of the two.I’m fine, I just didn’t get enough kip last night.”
Bless him, Ronnie’s eyes just twinkled.He nodded his acceptance of her explanation, and waited for her to find a perch on the second of the swivel chairs.“So, Black Halo,” he began.“They were playing somewhere in Italy last night—”
“Genoa.”
“Genoa.Okay, right.Anyway, it sounds like it got well mental.”His hands started moving.They always did when he got wrapped up in a tale, lending emphasis to his stories.“A guy got beaten to a near pulp at the arena, and rumour is it was one of the band who started it.And then, get this, one of them attacked a reporter at the after party.”
“Attacked!”Her heart dropped into her boots.
“Attacked,” he echoed.
“Jesus.Who?Why?”She didn’t know them all personally.She knew all the stuff about them out there in internet land, but her interactions with them had been restricted to Spook, Xane and Ash.Honestly, she couldn’t imagine any of them decking a reporter.“I’m not sure I believe it.”
Ronnie pivoted round.“Jeez, missus.I didn’t realise you were a super fan.Did I dare to disparage your favourite band?”
“I’ve worked with them,” she snapped defensively.“They’re good guys.The report is probably bollocks.”It had to be.Stories about the band frequently made the rounds on the internet.Most of them were utter tosh.“Attacked in what way?”Her mind kept jolting back to the screams she’d heard, and the sounds of ripping fabric.
“Well, the write up is totally overblown.As far as I can tell she has some miniscule scratch from a glass that got broke.”
“One of them glassed a reporter!”
Surely not.
No way.
Ronnie startled her with a laugh.“What is up with you today?Sure, the writer would like us to believe that.”He flashed her a glimpse of the article’s headline on his phone screen.“But all that happened was that a glass got smashed next to her.It sounds like one of them got drunk and threw a wobbly when she wouldn’t get out of his face.”
“Who was this?Which reporter?”She snatched the phone out of Ronnie’s hand.
“Hey,” he protested, immediately reaching to reclaim it.
