Part 34 (2/2)

”You're the girl of the moment, right? You and Jax. How's that going?”

I pick up my gla.s.s, and stare into it. ”Interesting.”

”Ah right. Don't want to talk about it?' He taps his nose. ”I won't tell your wild rock star secrets.”

”Ha! I don't have any.”

”Ruby Riot is a good band though, what are they like? Friendly? They've never spoken to me.” I study the tall guy with the impressive beard and man bun, an image a few students around share. Funny how fas.h.i.+ons that begin as a sign of individuality become mainstream. Like grungy rock stars.

”You don't look like you'd be a fan.”

”Oh?” He raises a brow. ”Why?”

”You've seen their fans. They're more...” I flourish a hand and he nods. ”Different to you.”

”Well, I like them. And Blue Phoenix. I'm honoured I have the chance to work with a member of rock royalty.” He holds his gla.s.s up. ”Cheers.”

Rock royalty? Me. Bryn. Jax. Blue Phoenix. Ruby Riot. Jesus, my whole life is part of theirs. When I was younger, my ties to Bryn meant nothing, but suddenly they're significant.

Staying under the radar isn't an option anymore.

”Hardly!” I protest.

”Do you get followed much?”

”When I'm with Jax. I try not to stand out.” Tonight I've dressed down, in an attempt to blend in - skinniest of skinny jeans and a scoop-necked blue sweater. I have my hair pulled into a ponytail and no make-up, hopeful I won't be recognisable. Claire and Zoe are dressed the same, but somehow they manage to combine dressing down with looking dressed up.

”Surprised you're not wearing a hat and sungla.s.ses.”

I pull a face. ”Very funny. Like I said, n.o.body pays me much attention when I'm on my own.”

”Good luck with that.” He looks away and drinks.

”Why?”

”Come on, Tegan. There's a reason you have a rock star falling at your feet.”

I splutter. ”He isn't.”

”If he isn't, he's crazy.”

I s.h.i.+ft in my seat, heart rate picking up. c.r.a.p. Did I misread him? Julian breaks into a grin. ”Don't stress, I'm not hitting on you. I know I'm no compet.i.tion for Jax Lewis.”

Julian is not my type of guy. At all. The idea of kissing a man with a beard grosses me out, but I don't say anything. The last thing I want is for him to leave me alone talking girl stuff with Claire and Zoe.

Julian and me share a laugh about Sarah, a girl from the office, and her blatantly obvious attempts to get backstage pa.s.ses. I've promised her I'll work something out before the end of the tour, and Riley warns her about the twins. Sarah's response is she has no interest in the groupie lifestyle; maybe she's not as ditzy as she behaves. Apparently, Sarah wants the free booze and bragging rights. Julian asks if he needs to worry about the twins too if he goes and is rewarded with a scowl from Riley. I promise him another pa.s.s so he can make the tour wrap up party too.

As the evening continues Claire attempts to persuade me to spill on Jax, as Julian predicted. Julian immediately launches into a story about his dealings with boyband, The Five. The attention switches from me; I nod at him in grat.i.tude and he winks. This is the most relaxing night out I've had for weeks. Calm. Normal. I've isolated myself from long-term friends.h.i.+ps by travelling, and I click with these people.

I check my phone for a message from Jax. He's in Manchester tonight and although my trust in him has grown, I'm still cautious and find myself checking social media every morning for reports on him. When we're together and alone, the world retreats until there is no rock star in the relations.h.i.+p. Then he's just Jax, the man whose magnetism I can't escape. I'm not fatalistic, but believe something unusual exists between us and creates this intensity. I've reached the point where not being around him leaves a s.p.a.ce in my life I can't fill with anything else. If I didn't see the world reflected in Jax's eyes, I would run. Far.

”I'll buy the next drinks,” I tell Julian and pull my purse from my pocket. Five pounds left, I had plenty of money earlier. I forget how expensive London is. ”Sorry, I need to grab some more cash.”

”Don't worry about it,” says Julian, reaching for his wallet.

”No. My round. There's a cashpoint close by. I'll be there and back in less than five minutes.”

I stand and Julian does too. ”Want me to come with you?”

”No! I'm fine. Honestly. Five minutes.”

”If you're sure.” I point at the door and wave my purse at Phoebe to indicate what I'm doing and she nods.

The pub is located on a main street in Box Hill amongst small shops and cafes. The roads are always busy, but as the hours pa.s.s the number of people walking around drops. At this time, there're usually groups of younger people and the occasional person walking their dog to the nearby green. 11 p.m.. I wouldn't do this in the early hours, but I'm happy to walk the few hundred metres to the bank alone. I pull my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. No more Jax texts.

When I reach the bank and cashpoint, I wait behind a couple of girls as I s.h.i.+ver against the lingering winter. Why didn't I bring my jacket? Light from the street highlights the blue hair of the girl who rests against the building wall, as the other retrieves her money. She watches me and I smile and say h.e.l.lo. The girl doesn't respond, instead saying something in a low voice to her friend. The other girl tucks cash into her back pocket and turns to look at me too. I size them up. Around my age. Piercings and bright hair. Dark clothes. My scalp p.r.i.c.kles at their silent scrutiny.

”Are you Tegan Hughes?” asks the taller girl with blue hair.

Unsure what to say, I nod.

”Told you!” she tells her friend and shoves her arm.

They both study me again, like I'm something unpleasant they'd find on the bottom of their boots. They step closer and I move back. ”Are you still with Jax?” asks the blue-haired girl.

”Yes.”

”Wow, what a b.i.t.c.h,” mutters the second girl.

”What?”

”You. What a b.i.t.c.h.”

I swallow down my nerves. ”Excuse me.”

As I step towards the cashpoint, one of the girls stands in front of me. ”Who's the other guy?” The intensity of her tone is matched by an agitation, which unnerves me, as she picks at her sleeve.

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