Never Ending Read online

  It had only recently hit me just how lucky I was. So many of the kids I'd grown up with – other celebrity brats come of age among the snapping of paparazzi photographs, who learned to walk toddling down the red carpet – had family lives that were...far from ideal, to say the least. Mothers who did cocaine in the family bathroom, blaming their empty canisters of prescription pills on the housekeeper. Dads who hired escorts to pleasure them in the family bed. Endless rotating casts of second-, third-, and fourth wives, and all the therapy bills that came with it.

  My family seemed downright normal in comparison. My mother may have been a model, and my father had been a rock star, but somehow they managed to escape every single stereotype. If anything, my father said, his rough living in his 20's and 30's had made him realize just how little he wanted a similar existence for his daughter – my mother, too, used to the backbiting of the modeling world, had decided that it was more important for her daughter to grow up with a strong sense of self than with a plastic-perfect nose or a 32DD bust. And I was grateful for them – even when their love veered clearly into the territory of protectiveness. Looking at the darkness in Danny's eyes when he spoke of his stepmother, I thought, I was even more thankful for them now.

  I couldn't imagine a viper like Roni Taylor getting anywhere near my family.

  Still, viper or no, she was a force to be contended with, and contend Danny did.

  “Sometimes it's good to have contacts,” he said to me with a mischievous grin. “The club manager at Blue Circus remembers me from the time I threw up on his stage.”

  “You were drunk?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Not quite,” Danny laughed. “I was five and had eaten too many white chocolate caramel bars. A real rocker, I was, as you see. Setting the stage for my later excesses.” He kissed me. “And the owner of Blue Cabaret in Edinburgh – he remembers me, too. He gave me a Batman action figure for my fifth birthday. Which, I'm not ashamed to say, I still possess today.”

  From what I could hear from Danny's end of the phone conversations, it looked like Danny's contacts were susceptible to stories about Batman action figures and an excess of caramel bars. By the end of the second day of phone calls, Danny had booked us ten tour dates in the US and the UK, all in promotion of our much-vaunted second album, which Danny promised the club managers would be “even better than the first.””

  “Now, we've got to write the bloody thing,” said Danny. “And it's got to be good, too. These chaps are doing us a favor, risking annoying Roni the way they are. They're good men and women, but they're also businesspeople. They're betting that the Never Knights will be a success – one worth getting Blues Enterprises angry for. So we'd better make sure that they get a return on their investment.”

  “I guess that means it's time to start rehearsal.”

  “One step ahead of you, love. I've sent a mass email to the band and booked the basement room in this hotel – just for us. Starting in thirty minutes. We've booked it for twelve hours. So, if you're feeling at all sleepy...” he squeezed my thigh, his fingers tracing a line up towards where they met; my mouth parted in a soft, lazy moan. “You'd better down an entire thermos of coffee. The others are already on their way.”

  I swallowed down my fear. What would it be like – all of us together again in the same room? We hadn't all been together since the Never Knights broke up, and – although my one-on-one conversations with Kyle, Luc, and Steve had gone some way towards allaying my fears – I was still worried that the group dynamic would prove tense, especially with Danny still in the picture. Danny a permanent part of the picture, I thought, not without some trepidation. Now that Blues Records was taking over control of the band's management, Danny had an incredible – some might say inordinate – amount of power over the band. It wasn't just us, anymore, just me and Kyle and Luc and Steve, with Danny as a last-minute, if highly charismatic, replacement. Now, Danny was the band. And I wasn't entirely sure how Luc or Kyle would feel about that.

  Still, I got my gear ready, and headed into the elevator with Danny.

  “So, my maddening one,” Danny grinned at me. “Am I right in thinking that we're going to have to tone it down in front of the others?”

  I nodded. “As far as Kyle's concerned, he wants to pretend like you and I are not happening.”

  “Well then...” Danny leaned in, and I could smell the intoxicating aroma of his musk, sending me weak in the knees. “I'll have to get as much as I can out of you right now, before we get to the bottom floor.”

  In an instant he was upon me, pushing me up against the wall, his hands rough and vigorous as they found their way to my shoulders, my breasts. His tongue was sweet and hot in my mouth, blending delicacy with force as he opened my mouth wider to the urgency of his kiss. He pressed my wrists against the wall, holding me down, his kiss burning with his need. I could feel a familiar, agonizingly welcome hardness in his groin as he pressed against me.

  Then the elevator doors opened at the lobby, and we sprang apart.

  “Hey, Neve...” Luc was looking at his shoes, a thin blush spreading across his cheeks. “Going down, I take it?”

  “Rehearsal's on the basement floor, yeah,” said Danny, making room for him in the elevator.

  “Steve texted me. He's already down there with Kyle.”

  It was my turn to blush. Certainly, from my rumpled hair and Danny's coy expression, Luc could guess what we'd been doing in the elevator, even if we'd managed to push apart by the time he saw us. My stomach sank. If you're trying to tone things down with Danny, Neve, you're not off to a great start, are you?

  Luc tried to smile at me, but I could see the sadness in his enormous, dog-brown eyes. “It's good to see you, Neve,” he whispered.

  “It's good to see you too,” I whispered back. And I meant it. A strange, comfortable warmth was flowing through me – the same feeling I always used to get when eating dinners at Luc's mother's house. A feeling of safety, of security. Of being loved. It was a feeling I cherished – and I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until I savored it again.

  The elevator doors were open once more, and then we were in the basement.

  “Right,” said Danny. “Practice time.”

  “Neve!” A loud voice echoed off the mirrored walls of the rehearsal room. “Somebody's been away for far too long!”

  Before I could so much as look up to see who had spoken, Steve's lanky, long arms were tight around me, rocking me back and forth in a bear hug.

  “Aww...Neve! I've missed you so much! Without you, I've had nobody to make fun of. Kyle here is not much to mock – he's way too serious for that!”

  Kyle tried to laugh along with us, but his chuckle soon faded out awkwardly. He stood up – straight like a mannequin, I thought – and walked towards me, holding out his hand for a handshake.

  “Neve. Danny. It's good to see you both again.” His voice was tight and controlled, and he did not look at either one of us.

  “You too.” My voice sounded as awkward as I felt.

  “All right, you bunch of lazybones,” Steve crowed. “Time to get cracking. Let's make some music.” He began tapping out a beat on the drums.

  We went to our instruments, Luc picking out a melody on the guitar.

  And then something happened. Something incredible – something bizarre and yet wonderful.

  The music.

  The music is all that matters.

  Because the second we started playing, the second Steve's drum beats echoed through us, the second the guitar started wailing, the second I opened my mouth and let all my fears, my worries, my insecurities fly away like a bird from my lips, nothing else was important. Our dramas, our romances – so petty, so ephemeral – did not matter. My relationship with Danny did not matter. All that mattered was the gorgeous music we were playing, the music that rocked us through to the very core of our beings, the music that made us shiver and shudder and shake in ecstasy.

  This is what I want to be doing, I th
ought to myself. This is what I want to be doing for the rest of my life. And nothing else matters. Nothing but this. I wanted to make this music, to give it to others, to celebrate the sound, to make it my gift to everyone I saw, to everyone I knew or everyone had known, to everyone I loved.

  This was what was important.

  We were the Never Knights, and nothing could take that away from us.

  When we finished playing our first song, everyone was smiling – even Kyle. His golden hair flopped over his eyes – sparkling with joy – and for the first time, I saw the pain vanish from his expression. He looked over at me. “Not bad, eh, Neve?”

  His grin was genuine.

  “Let's give it another go,” said Luc. “We don't have long until our first performance? Which is where exactly, Danny?”

  “A pretty hot gig,” said Danny. “March 15. At the monthly Rock the House night Midnight Blue over in West Hollywood.”

  “March 15?” Steve looked confused. “That can't be. The Dusk Riders are playing this month's Rock the House.”

  A slow smile spread across Danny's lips. “Oh, they are,” he said. “But let's just say the club manager was very excited when I proposed a surprise special guest...”

  Chapter 6

  My heart was beating so fast – faster, it seemed, than it had ever beaten before in my life. It was ricocheting against my ribcage, pounding at my chest. My whole body was shaking. My knees were knocking together; my wrists were trembling; my teeth were chattering. I felt like I'd been shot with adrenaline, straight through, a jab to the heart. But it wasn't fear I was feeling – or at least, not fear of the ordinary kind. It was excitement, plain and simple, the kind of heart-pounding, fist-pumping, thrill-seeking joy that I thought had been lost forever.

  We were going to play a gig. The Never Knights are going to play a gig. The Never Knights are back – and we're ready for action.

  I looked around at the other faces in the green room, shining with joy, costumes and makeup already on. There was Steve, his long and lanky look transformed with the help of eyeliner and a leather jacket into devastatingly handsome, Bowie-style waifish glamour, something of the Gothic about his hollow cheeks and hungry eyes. There was Luc, with his enormous puppy-dog eyes ringed with brown liner, his hair slicked back like a 50's rocker, giving him the slightly anachronistic aura of a Sinatra-style crooner blended with something more modern – edgier, I thought. But all the edginess in the world couldn't get rid of the old-fashioned romantic look in his eyes. I smiled as I took him all in. No matter what he was wearing, or how the makeup artist had attempted to transform him into a rocker, I thought, Luc always projected an air of sweetness, of vulnerability, that broke my heart, even when I didn't know why.

  “What is it, Neve?” Luc caught my gaze. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I'm okay.”

  Just feeling lucky.

  It was so surreal that I could hardly believe it. A few months ago, the Never Knights were down and out, completely done for, the band fragmented and broken, our hopes shattered and trodden into dust. And now here we were, backstage in the green room at the Rock the House Night at Midnight Blue, preparing to go onstage as a band – no, as a team – once more. And it felt good.

  “Just imagine the look on Roni's face,” Steve was laughing. “When we go out there after the Dusk Rider's first set.”

  I grimaced as I imagined it. It would feel like victory, I was sure – at least, at first. But would she seek to retaliate?

  The music of the Dusk Riders droned in through the sound system to the green room, along with the rush of applause that greeted every single song. I couldn't deny that they were good – very good, even. Their guitar licks were polished; the rhythms were tight; the lyrics fit one another like a hand in a glove. But as I listened to the lead singer – the girl with my face – wail out the final chord to one of her songs, I looked up at Danny, an encouraged smile spreading across my face. They were slick, maybe – but their music had a polished, manufactured sound, as if it had been thought up by market researchers in a laboratory rather than by real artists.

  “A glam rock band out of central casting,” Steve said, catching my eye. We both burst into giggles.

  “What did she put on the casting notice – people who look edgy, please apply within?”

  “Unconventional people – five individuals, all unique, yet somehow all the same?” Kyle broke in with a high, quick laugh.

  Immediately there was a short, surprised silence. Kyle had been warming up to us, little by little, but throughout our frenzied week of rehearsals he'd still seemed a little awkward, a little standoffish, as if he'd been holding back. Now, however, he was all smiles, grinning from ear to ear as he laughed with Steve, me, and Luc. Just like old times.

  But it's not like old times, is it?

  I looked over to where Danny stood by the mirror, a few feet away from the rest of us. It hadn't been an intentional slight, as far as I knew – even Kyle had been meticulously polite to him. But our table had only room for four mirrors, and Danny had chosen to get ready at the other table across the room.

  I hadn't wanted to say anything – Danny and I were still committed to keeping our relationship as quiet and discreet as possible, to avoid antagonizing Kyle or Luc. So I'd let him walk away without giving him a second glance. But as I watched him smear stage makeup across his chiseled, marble-white cheeks, I couldn't help but feel a pang of pity.

  He's still an outsider, isn't he?

  To me, Danny Blue was my boyfriend, the boy who sent me reeling every time he looked at me, touched me, kissed me. But to the rest of the band, Danny was a strange interloper, a larger-than-life figure who had sailed in, taken the girl, taken control of the band's management, and plunged us all into a standoff with Roni Taylor that none of us had ever wanted – or even imagined was possible. And, as nice as the guys tried to be to him, one thing was clear.

  He wasn't one of them.

  Danny was older; he was foreign; he hadn't grown up with the rest of us. He didn't have the memories, the inside jokes, the secret nicknames, that bonded the rest of us to one another. I'd never noticed it before – I'd been so wrapped up in my own relationship with Danny that I'd never seriously though about his relationship to the rest of the band. But as I looked at his face reflected in the mirror, his deep blue eyes searing into my heart even from his reflection, I knew that, beneath that devil-may-care exterior and that blasé English charm, Danny Blue was lonely.

  I caught his eye in the mirror, tried to send him a small, subtle smile – something discreet enough that it would escape the notice of Luc or Kyle. He smiled back at me, his white teeth glistening in the halogen light of the green room, his stage makeup only accentuating the delicate contours of his face, and, struck once more by the sheer force of his beauty, I felt myself gasp involuntarily.

  Even after all this time, I chided myself. You're like a schoolgirl. You never can get used to the fact that he's the one who wants you.

  It still felt like an aberration, a mistake, an accidental rip in the fabric that held the universe together – that someone as handsome, as brilliant, as clever as Danny Blue would want a confused college girl like me.

  “Come on,” Steve shouted. “Let's go out there and get a look at the Dusk Riders' faces when they see who is coming up after them.”

  “It's Roni's face I'm interested in,” murmured Danny darkly.

  “Come on, guys,” Steve grabbed my hand with his left hand and Luc's with his right. “Let's go for it. Let's make it happen. Let's give them the best bloody show they've had in their whole bloody lives – how about it?”

  “Absolutely!” cried Kyle, joy spreading across his face like a blush.

  “100%” chimed in Luc.

  “Let's have a toast!” Steve lifted up his water bottle. “To the Never Knights, back and better than ever!”

  “To the Never Knights!” We raised up our water, clinking glasses and
spilling the water on the floor as we crowed, overflowing with joy. “Back and better than ever!”

  We all held hands as we strode out to the stage, making our way to the front row, where LA's boldest and most beautiful were rocking out to the Dusk Riders' song. Once, the sight would have filled me with bitterness – even jealousy. But not now. Now, I almost felt sorry for them.

  “Come on, baby, let me in

  Together we'll play and together you'll win.”

  The lead singer – that other Neve – was crooning her way through the song, her sultry lips puckering around each syllable.

  Then she saw me.

  Her eyes, which had been languorously lowered, flew wide open in shock. All the color went out of her painted cheeks. She looked, for all intents and purposes, as if she'd seen a ghost.

  “You...” she whispered, under her breath, the words of the song choking in her throat.

  She took a hesitant step forward, trying desperately to continue singing, but the damage had already been done. Distracted, she accidentally set her stilettos down right in the coiled pile of microphone cord, and when she yanked the microphone to her lips, the coil tightened around her ankle, yanking her right along with it.

  She fell to the stage with a resounding thud.

  Immediately the rest of the music stopped – the guitar, the drums, the bass all silent.

  I caught sight of Roni's face in the crowd. She looked furious – angrier than I'd ever seen her – her beautiful, proud lips pursed together in an expression of utter rage.

  “Ow...” the girl was moaning from the stage, rubbing her hands against her head.