9
Jem
No Bryn tonight.Things have been tense the last few days; my moods piss him off but people in my face telling me what to do pissesmeoff. After a couple of weeks of clashing, he’s gone home. Bryn hides it but I can tell he’s surprised at my continuing sobriety.
This leaves me alone with Ruby Riot again.
They’ve played a few gigs over the last month, even going as far afield as Wales and I teased the band that Cardiff counted as a European tour. Liam saw them for the first time when we were over there and I think he was impressed. We were both distracted by chicks that night, so I haven’t found a real chance to talk to Liam about his opinion.
Dan the Dickhead comes with us to every gig. I act as if he isn’t here; the fucker doesn’t know how lucky he is I didn’t smack him that time in the alley. He’s extra loving to Ruby when I’m around, which grates. I’ve seen bruises on Ruby. I tried to talk to her before the gig in Cardiff, but she shut me down. I only tried once—the longing to touch Ruby that seizes my logic whenever she’s close means staying well away is the only option.
Each time I watch Ruby perform, every second I spend around her, the harder it is to shut her out. There’s something about this talented, too tempting woman with her strange personas. The make-up and ink hide some of who she is, the first line of defence against the world. If that doesn’t work in keeping people out, Ruby’s foul mouth and attitude are turned full volume.
Thing is, this doesn’t work with me. I can outmatch her because I’ve had years more practice than she has. So when her defences fail, Ruby is lost around me and retreats to a third persona. Not Ruby, not Tuesday, but somebody fighting to find her way through. I catch glimpses of this girl; I suspect I’m the only one who does. Every time this Ruby appears, she backtracks as if she can’t allow her to be seen, and definitely not around me.
The hidden girl is the one I’m freefalling towards—the other girl of my dreams. Dreams about Ruby meld with the nightmares about Liv and that fucking terrifies me.
The frustration with the situation doesn’t help when the band piss me off too. I book Ruby Riot a decent sized venue they’d never play if it weren’t for my influence, and they refuse to give me a definite yes until two days before. Apparently, Ruby hasn’t felt well the last couple of weeks and they’re waiting to see how she is before committing.
Bullshit.
The reason is with them now; Dan the Dickhead watching everyone set up the equipment, keeping Ruby in sight. In line. Under control. I don’t get it, can’t figure out how this sharp, smart girl allows her life to be dominated by someone else. Why the hell do women do this?
Not my problem. I can’t fix them. The mantra continues, but weakens.
Jax corners me as usual, his hero-worship flattering at first but is bordering on annoying now. He wants to show me a new song he’s written and asks for input. Jax is determined, the driving force behind the band and reminds me of myself. A less fucked up version. Jax seems to have his head screwed on the right way, probably had a calmer start in life. I relent and give him the nod to show me. I guess I annoyed the crap out of people pushing Blue Phoenix’s music onto everyone back in the day.
Jax drinks from a bottle of water—he’s learned I’ll pay more attention if he keeps alcohol away from me—then plays what he’s written and I’m impressed. He’s a talented guy.
“I’m going to sort you guys a tour then some studio time,” I tell him.
Jax’s face transforms from rock-star cool to open-mouthed astonishment. “Fucking serious?”
“Yeah. We need a proper set of tracks to play Steve. The couple of songs you have on YouTube aren’t enough. We gotta get you out there.” I pause. “You need more commitment though.”
“Fuck, yeah! I’ll drop everything—time out for a few days.”
“Not just you. You all need to commit.”
Jax nods vigorously. “We’re committed.”
“Ruby?” I set down my guitar. “And her ‘health problems’.”
The sharp look he gives me is an exchange of understanding. “She’ll be cool. She wants this as much as the rest of us.”
“I don’t doubt that.” I pause.Shouldn’t get involved. “What’s going on with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Ruby. Cool chick, ballsy but she doesn’t look well. Is she using? That’d be a deal-breaker for me.”
“No,” says Jax firmly. “We don’t. None of us.”
“She looks ill.”
“She’s had a tough time the last few years.”
Not going there. “Okay. Obviously not a healthy lifestyle.”