Fully Automatic (Bullet) (35 page)

Chapter Forty-one

THE DAYS BEGAN
to fly as Brad renewed his goals.  He liked lists, and so he made a list of priorities, all leading to the same main goal.  The first was to continue booking shows.  More than that, though, his focus changed a little.  If he had a choice of more than one show (which happened more and more often), he would choose the one that had bands they hadn’t played with before (if that was an option).  He was constantly looking for new venues too.  The point was more exposure, because he figured he’d never know when they’d get noticed by the right person.

The second goal was to keep writing music.  He’d noticed that every new song he wrote was better than the last.  In fact, the stuff he was writing that summer put the first few songs he’d ever written to shame.

The third goal was to get laid more often.  Thoughts of Val continued to linger in his head, and he felt like he was in perpetual grief.  It wasn’t healthy.  He was twenty-one, for fuck’s sake, and he should have been having sex every goddamn night of the week.  But he wasn’t, and that was going to change.

He still didn’t over the summer.  He found a girl once in a while and made sure he always had condoms at the ready, but he just couldn’t get into it.  When he would, he’d picture Val in his mind.  He knew it was unhealthy, but he didn’t know how to let her go.

By fall, he managed to find a girl now and then, but more than that, his feelings for Val were simmering down again.  She broke up with Jet, but he wasn’t going to allow himself to make a move.  Every time he had in the past, he’d gotten his heart crushed.  It wasn’t going to happen again.  So he was going to bury those feelings for her, and the music was key.  He poured everything into it—his heart and his soul.  It was therapeutic.  Sometimes he wrote lyrics too.  Sometimes he shared them with the band, but he usually didn’t.  Most often, he’d keep the words to himself so Val could write her own and make the song hers too.  She didn’t have to know the song had meant something else to him entirely.

As an extension of his objectives, he kept doing things that real rock stars did.  He got tattoos when he felt like it; he kept growing his hair longer (although he had to tie it back in a rubber band for work); and he would go to pawn shops once in a while to buy cool pedals for his guitar to try new sounds.

The best thing, though, was Zane had suggested a studio where they could record a high-quality CD.  He checked it out and was impressed. Yeah, Fully Automatic had a CD, but it sounded amateur (which it was), and he knew they needed something that sounded professional.  It was going to cost a lot, though, but he didn’t know how much.  It all depended, first off, on how much time they’d have to spend in the studio recording.  What also factored into the cost was how many songs they wanted to record.  So, by September, he’d set another goal for himself.  He was going to set aside so much money a month until he had enough.  Since moving to the bigger place, though, it was going to take longer.  At the rate he was going, it would take at least a year to save up enough money—unless, in the meantime, they started earning more with their shows.  That didn’t seem likely, but he could always hope.

In fact, hope was the one thing that often kept him going when nothing else would.

* * *

They had a show in October, one that at first made Brad feel like they’d gone off the rails.  It was intense and energetic, far above and beyond anything they’d experienced before, but he didn’t like how they’d gotten there.

They were setting up for the show, just like they had hundreds of times before, and he noticed that Val was wearing a trench coat.  Yeah, it had been raining earlier and it was cold, but the long coat seemed to be impeding her motion.  She’d been acting secretive anyway, so he wondered if she’d gotten a new tattoo or something she was wanting to unveil for the show.  He said, “Val, you’d have an easier time with your coat off.  Are you still cold?”  She just smiled.

Later, though, when they were getting ready to go up onstage to play, Val asked, “This time, would you guys start playing?  Then I’ll come out after the music starts.”

That confirmed his suspicions.  She was going to do something but was afraid of sharing it with them beforehand.  The fact that she wouldn’t tell them made him nervous, like it was something they might hate.  Still…he kept his mouth shut.  Ethan wasn’t going to be quiet, though.  “Why?”

“I want to try something new.”

“You’re not gonna ditch out on us, are you?”

“No, of course not.  Just trust me.”

Trust her.  That was going to be tough.  They were getting ready to play his newest song, one called “Primeval,” and he was nervous about it.  He didn’t need to fret over some shit Val had up her sleeve in addition to worrying about how the new song would go over.

Didn’t matter.  They went onstage and started playing, and he let the music fill his soul.  This was a song he didn’t have any secret lyrics for; it was one where he’d
simply let the music speak for his emotions, and it was full of anger.  It was how he could keep his daily emotions in check, by pouring out all the negativity into his guitar.  He felt anger at his bandmates for not pulling their weight; at Ethan for not getting or keeping his shit together; at Val for making stupid decisions; at himself for not finding a way to let her go.

When he played the song, he felt a weight lift, and he just let himself feel it.
  He was going to trust Val, just like she asked.  Ethan had the notion that she was going to bail, but why would she?  They’d been playing together for over a year.  She had as much invested in the band as the guys did.  And he decided to not worry about whatever the hell she was going to do.

After they started playing, Val made her entrance, and Brad thought he was going to die.  She strutted onstage in red heels and little else.  She was wearing matching panties, bra, and a fucking garter
and hose.  That was it.  She was wearing less than a lot of Victoria’s Secret models he’d seen.  He took a deep breath and felt grateful that his fingers and the instinctive part of his brain knew what to do, because his conscious mind was losing it.

He heard Ethan hit a wrong note, and it sounded like nails on a chalkboard.  The guy had done it before, especially when he was blitzed out of his gourd, but this was one even the audience couldn’t help but notice.

Brad wondered if the guy did it intentionally to make a statement.

Didn’t matter.  The crowd went wild.  He’d never heard that kind of reception for one of their shows before.  Yeah, he knew they had fans and they
made for kick ass audiences, but now he realized how important Val was to them.  She fronted their band—she was their face…and now she was their body too.  Brad had to give her credit—it was ballsy.  But he also felt like it meant that she didn’t believe in herself enough as a singer to trust that her vocal chops and stellar songwriting skills could pull in the audience.

Instead, she felt like she had to rely on sexual appeal.

He wasn’t sure why, but it pissed him off.  It pissed him off hardcore, and he was even more glad they’d chosen to play “Primeval” first.  He let his emotions build and tear through the song, and by the time they got to the solo, he felt like he’d melded with his guitar.  The solo was not only flawless (the goal he’d been aiming for during the days he’d been practicing), but it felt effortless.

The entire show was amazing, full of frenetic energy, and he knew if they could play shows like that all the time, it wouldn’t be long before a label snatched them up.  He could barely remember it, though, because his mind was in a dark place for the whole show.  He
wished he could have enjoyed it, because he believed it was their best show ever.

He decided, as they took their equipment off the stage, that he wouldn’t say anything for a while.  He was going to wait until he could be rational.  Maybe in a few days, he could trust himself to be reasonable and explain to Val why what she was doing was a bad idea.  For now, though, he wasn’t going to say a word.

He should have known that the guys wouldn’t keep quiet, though.  During the drive home, Ethan was the first to say something.  “What the hell inspired
that
shit, Val?”

She turned in the seat to look at him.  Brad kept his eyes on the road.  “The outfit?”

“Yeah.  Not that any of us are complaining.”

“I dunno.  I just thought if I looked kinda sexy, it could only help us.”

Zane said, “It worked.  I think half the audience had hard ons for most of the show.”

“Okay, I didn’t need
that
visual, Zane.  Thanks.”

Brad bit his tongue.  Fucking goddamn.  He was having a hell of a time.  He wasn’t ready to talk, because he didn’t think he’d be able to say what he needed to say without sounding like a jealous asshole…which he was right now.  He could feel Val looking at him—
why?
—but he forced his eyes to stay on the road.  She said, “I guess I might as well warn you guys—there’s plenty more where this came from.”

He could hear Ethan.  “Jesus Christ.  Please just tell me you don’t have any more garters.  My heart can’t take it.”

Zane laughed.  “I think I’m gonna ask Tanya to buy something like that.”

Val said, “Why don’t you buy it
for
her, stud?”

“Wouldn’t she find it insulting if I bought her something and then asked her to wear it?  Like she’s not good enough on her own?”

“I dunno.  Why don’t you go shopping together?”

“That’s a great idea.”

The chatter died down and Brad almost turned the radio up loud.  He couldn’t keep quiet anymore, though, because the rest of the band had weighed in.  He included Nick in the weigh in, because his silence wasn’t atypical.  He needed everyone else to know how he felt, and then if she still chose to do it, he’d live with it.  But he couldn’t keep quiet.  “Val, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but are you sure you want to go down this path?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged.  Truth be told, he loved seeing her body, and if he hadn’t cared about her so much, he would have loved it even more.  But he didn’t want her selling herself short.  “There’s always a chance people won’t take you seriously.  They’ll think you’re just a cupcake.”

She giggled. 
“A cupcake?  Why would they think that?  I sing and rock out.”

“I’m just sayin’.  It’s a chance you’re taking.”

“So what should I do, Brad?”  She was looking at him—hard.  He couldn’t look back.  He couldn’t.  She would know how he felt; they all would.  So he kept his eyes on the road while she continued.  “Was it just me, or was the audience insane tonight?”

He knew it was because of her, but he didn’t want her to get cocky. 
“You think that was all you?”

“You think I had nothing to do with it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Of course,
Ethan would defend her.  In spite of her summer with Jet, he knew Ethan still thought of Val as his girl.  “Bradley, man…you know they were eating it up because of Valerie.  I know you don’t want to hear it, but she stole the show.  And goddamn.  If we get that kinda reaction just ‘cause she’s showing a little skin, then I say we let her.”

N
ick, the last holdout, said, “I’m for it.”

Zane added his two cents’ worth. 
“Me too.”

He wasn’t going to say another word.  She—hell,
they
—knew how he felt.  His objections had been duly noted.  So he took a deep breath, clenched his jaw, and drove.  It was all he could do…all he’d been doing, and he wasn’t going to stop now.

Chapter Forty-two

VAL CONTINUED TO surprise Brad and the band with lots of provocative outfits.  Brad tried not to let it bother him, but underneath it all, it did.  It would have eaten at him even if he hadn’t had deeper feelings for the woman.  He hated that she felt like she needed to use her sex appeal to boost the band.  He would’ve been pissed if any of the guys had done something similar.

He knew, though—it bothered him worse with Val
because
it was her and because of how he felt about her.

He wasn’t going to say another word, though, and he tried to get over it.

In November, a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, they played their first show with Last Five Seconds since touring with them.  He had been planning to talk with Jet a little bit, since they were solid acquaintances, because Jet and Brian, their bassist, had been talking, and it sounded like they might have a recording deal.  Brad was eager to talk with Jet, because if their band could make it, he knew Fully Automatic had a great chance.  He knew Jet wouldn’t bullshit him.  He wanted to ask him what they’d done to get noticed.

When he went backstage to find him, though, he found Val sitting on Jet’s lap, and things were pretty hot and heavy between them.  Goddamn.  Not only
was he going to miss the opportunity to get information from Jet, but he had to find Val back in the guy’s arms.  He clenched his jaw and turned.  He’d go watch the last band of the evening and try to put that scene out of his mind.

He couldn’t find any of the guys, so he just found a place to stand in the crowd, away from the moshing but close enough to have a good view.  It turned out the band only had a couple of songs lef
t.  They were good and Brad enjoyed what he saw of the show.  In a way, he was glad he’d found Val and Jet in an embrace, because he wouldn’t have appreciated the band if not.

The lights came up and he decided to find everyone else.  As he started walking
toward the stage, though, he felt a hand on his arm.  “Brad?”

He turned around.  The blonde in front of him was familiar, and it was a few seconds until he realized it was Leah.  Holy shit.  He hadn’t
seen her in over two years.  She was all grown up.  Still beautiful, but she was no Valerie.  That was when he knew Val had infected him deeply, when his former flame couldn’t even take his mind off the woman.  “Leah.  How are you?”

“Great.  I had no idea you and your band had gotten so big.”

Brad smiled.  “Oh, so you saw us performing?”

“Yeah.  Gosh, you and Ethan look so different.”

“Time changes everything.  You too.”  He cleared his throat.  “What have you been up to?”

“I’m a junior now, so halfway done with my bachelor degree.”

“How’s that going?”

“Really well.”  A clean-cut kid with brown hair and a neat goatee came up behind Leah and put his arm over her shoulders.  Yeah…that was the kind of guy Brad had
pictured she’d end up with.  He’d always known he wasn’t her type, but she’d wanted to play around with the bad boy on the other side of the tracks.  He could tell from her smile that she hadn’t regretted her choice.  She wanted the rich kid.  He couldn’t blame her.  He just didn’t understand why someone like Val—someone who didn’t take issue with his hair and tattoos, someone who loved their music and the lifestyle—would continue to reject him.

No, that wasn’t true.  He was instead questioning why he continued expecting her to love him.  She’d made it clear more than once that he was not the guy for her, so why did he find himself pining for her still, still after all this time?

It was a question for the ages.

* * *

Winter kicked into high gear and brought with it snow, ice, and cold.  By January, Brad had managed to let his feelings for Val cool off as well once more, but he feared that they would still be there, just like they always had been.  There was a pilot light in his soul for Val, and most of the time, he didn’t even notice it was burning.  Something would inevitably happen, though, and it would rekindle his heart, setting the whole goddamn thing aflame until it died down again, leaving a charred mess behind.

She dressed warmly for the trips to their shows, but once she got there, she’d strip down to her skimpy outfits.  He wasn’t minding them as much, because he appreciated that she had a great body.  She’d grown into a beautiful woman, and as she’d become more comfortable with her position in the band, she’d gotten a few tattoos and piercings, and Brad was pretty sure she’d started working out a little too.  She had definition where there’d been none before, and if he’d thought she was sexy before, he’d had no clue.

The new year brought with it new behaviors.  He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but he and Val started flirting onstage.  They didn’t do it much at first.  Val had said something to someone in the audience and Brad had responded.  The crowd had found it funny, and the applause was amazing, reinforcing for them the idea that they wanted to do it again.  Ethan would get pissed sometimes, but that was just more reason for Brad to want to do it.  When Ethan was angry, he was fully present, something they weren’t always blessed with.  He was happy to take angry Ethan.  Zane would get in on it once in a while as well, and it just became something fun they did.

In March, though, Val kicked it up a notch.  It went from being cute, funny, and flirtatious to being pretty serious.  At least, it was starting to feel that way to Brad.  And he was pissed, because every time they’d gone there in the past, Val had wound up shitting all over him.

Maybe that wasn’t completely fair.  Maybe it was partly his fault too.  After all, he’d promised both her and her father that he’d keep his hands to himself.  If she kept up the onstage antics, he didn’t know that he could stop himself from making a move on her either.  He assumed, though, that the flirting was simply another thing she was doing to try to boost their audience participation and get more fans, just like her lingerie trick had been, so he was trying hard not to get his hopes up.  He’d been disappointed one too many times before when it came to Val.

Bottom line…Val had been through two incredibly intense relationships in the course of a year.  She’d loved both Ethan and Jet hard, and even though her reunion with Jet had
seemed to last for one night only, he knew her feelings for both of those men had run deep.  He was convinced that Val considered him only a friend and that was all they ever would be, in spite of their past.

But they were playing a show on his birthday.  He hadn’t minded when he’d scheduled it.  His birthday was on a Friday and he couldn’t turn down a show.  But—mid-set—Val had stopped the show and sung “Happy Birthday” to him, just like the old Marilyn Monroe version the blonde bombshell had sung for JFK.  It wrecked him.  She was breathy and seductive, like Marilyn had been decades ago, but unlike the actress, Val was hardly wearing a thing.  It was insane.
  And she called him her “hot guitarist,” no less.  She was fucking killing him.

A guy in the audience yelled, “Whatcha gonna give him for his birthday?”

She said in the microphone without missing a beat, “I bet you’d like to know, but it’s not something we should talk about in public.”

If only.  The problem with all the flirting was he lost his eye for other women.  Again.  He just couldn’t do it.

It was fucking stupid.

And, yet, there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it.

* * *

Since the birthday song, Brad started thinking about Val again all the time.  He had it bad.  And all he could do was try to bury it like he always had.

She wouldn’t let him, though.  She’d been teasing him onstage so much, it had started to spill over into their real lives, and he wasn’t quite sure what to think about it.  Part of him toyed with the idea of pursuing her in earnest, but then he remembered the promise he’d made her…
and
her dad.  He didn’t want to mess up the band, and he’d promised her father her honor would remain intact with him.  He didn’t plan to go back on his word, no matter how deep his desire.

Still…she was making it difficult.  He wasn’t even
looking
at other women anymore.  If there really was such a thing as lovesickness, he had it.  He had it bad.

He wasn’t about to stop flirting, though, because he was having fun and the audience seemed to enjoy their banter.  One night at a concert in April, someone threw a handful of condoms onstage, and they appeared to be aimed at Valerie.  Well, having things thrown at them wasn’t completely unusual.  Some girl had thrown a pair of panties at him last fall.  As long as the fans weren’t throwing rocks or tomatoes, he was cool with it.  On this particular evening, Valerie had picked up one of the wrapped condoms.  She held it up and started wagging it toward the audience.  She said, “Glad to see you folks are practicing safe sex.”

He didn’t even think twice about joining in.  It had become their
thing
.  He stepped up to the mike and said to her, “Not very safe if they’re throwing them up here instead of hanging onto them.”  He’d considered saying…
more
, but he respected Valerie too much to be too crude onstage.  He didn’t want to give all the perverts with their tongues hanging out any ideas.  Just the thought that half these guys would be whacking off later thinking about her made his blood grow cold.

Speaking of perverts, some asshole yelled, “Let me at ‘em.  You’ll never be the same, Valerie.”

Brad saw red and couldn’t think straight.  He wanted to go beat the shit out of the moron, but he instead grew even calmer.  He’d never keep fans if he went around kicking their asses.  Instead, he was going to play it cool.  He could do that.  So he smirked and said, “Now why the hell would she want
you
when she’s got my sexy bod?”  The women in the audience started screaming.  He hadn’t expected
that
reaction.  It felt nice, though.  So he pushed it further.  “And she’s never been the same since.”  Really, it wasn’t difficult.  They’d been engaging in this sort of repartee for weeks now.

Wow.  That look.  He hadn’t seen her look at him like that in a long damn time.  She was checking him out.  For reals.  She was literally eyeing him up and down.  He swallowed hard.  No.  He must have been imagining it, right?  Val didn’t think about him that way anymore, did she? 
Did she?

She winked at him then and started flopping that stupid condom around.  She breathed into the microphone, “You know, Brad, I don’t think this would fit you anyway.
  You need the large size, right?”  After a beat, he started laughing.  He couldn’t believe she’d said that.  It was an ego booster, even though she had no idea the size of his cock.  The girls in the audience started screaming again and he swallowed once more.  He yelled into the mike, “Hit it, guys.”  And he didn’t know what overtook him, but he walked the short distance over to Valerie who stood center stage, and he cupped her cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against hers.

It was fucking electric.  He didn’t know why he was surprised by her reaction, but it was as though no time between them had passed.  He wasn’t content with just a short platonic kiss, either.  He brushed her lips with his tongue and when she responded by opening her mouth, he didn’t hesitate to claim her.  And when he let go, he knew he’d left her breathless, and that meant one of two things—either she
was
starting to feel the same way again, or he’d shocked the shit out of her.  How he managed to play his guitar on cue, he’d never know.

And the rest of the show he played by rote.  His lips couldn’t forget the feel of hers against his, and he could remember how she’d smelled up close—sweet, like vanilla, and her skin had been warm and soft.  That had been a stupid fucking move, planting a kiss on her, because now he’d never get her out of his head.  He could remember every time he’d ever touched her, every time he’d tasted her, and his obsession would begin all over again.  There would be no stopping it.

He was pissed with himself then, and he was deep in thought as they loaded up their equipment.  He didn’t say a word, though, and he was glad none of the guys did either.  Val acted like nothing had happened.  He felt a little relief at that.  Not much, though.

Later that evening as they were driving back to the apartment, he finally found the words.  He looked over toward the passenger seat
where she was sitting and he said, “Hey…sorry about earlier.”

Val had been looking out the window but she turned to him.  It was dark but he could see her expression thanks to all the streetlig
hts they were driving past.  “Hmm?”  She seemed lost in thought.  “What?”

Saying it again was going to be hard.  “Onstage.  Kissing you.  Sorry about that.  I know you weren’t expecting it.”

She smiled and giggled.  God, she was so cute when she did that.  “Hey, the audience liked it.  That’s what matters, right?  It didn’t bother me.”

Yeah…but now he wasn’t getting the sense that she felt the same way.  Of course, she didn’t.  It felt like a fucking punch in the gut, but yeah.  Stupid ass.  She was still in love with
either Jet or Ethan.  Of course.  Brad’s kiss hadn’t meant a thing.  To her, it had just been a stunt.  An effective one, but a stunt nonetheless.  So he nodded and tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.  “Yeah, I was just kind of rolling with the punches.”