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Maddox
Lights flash around my stage. I block them out as the bass pulses through the room. It’s a mixture of people talking and laughing, cheers in the background as others toast, and the music I’m playing blasting through the speakers of the club.
Two nights ago, one of my best friends, Adam Coleman, came to the grand opening of Luxe along with the rest of my friends and band. It’s a brand-new club in Malibu that sits atop the Mavin International Resort and Hotel, overlooking the city and beach. I’m the DJ in one of the most prestigious, upscale hotel companies around the world. Mavin International is test marketing this as a new piece of their business. Luxe is the first of what they hope to be several nightclubs sitting atop their buildings, and I’m their resident DJ for the next three months.
Twelve weeks of bass pounding beats, girls, partying with Adam—one of the hottest actors in Hollywood—girls, and living the luxurious life of a rock star. Oh, did I mention girls?
I love my life.
Jenny walks behind me, her hand running across my shoulders. Glancing over at her, she smiles, and I lift the headphone off my ear. “What’s up?”
“I have to take off early. Gotta catch a red-eye flight for my agency.” Stepping closer, she lifts her lips to my ear. “I’ll be back next weekend, though. Can we hang out?”
“I’ll have to check my schedule,” I half joke.
She picks up on it. “Maddox, you know I’m so much more fun than any of those others.”
Chuckling, I wrap an arm around her waist. “I don’t know. You might have to remind me when you get back.”
She laughs, pulling away a touch, but stays close enough to keep her arm around my neck. “I’ll be sure to do just that, King of Bad.”
I watch as she walks through the crowd. Jenny and I have an on-again, off-again relationship. We’re on when we’re together, and we’re off when we’re not. I know she has a crazy schedule, and even though I’m not touring right now, she knows I … like to have fun. Okay, maybe relationship is too strong of a word for what we have. Let’s call it a mutual understanding.
“Very not bad,” Derrik jokes behind me, catching me off guard.
“Hey.” I turn around and give him a hug. “You know how I roll.”
“Oh, I know. Singer or actress?”
“Model.”
“Of course.” He laughs, stepping closer and examining my DJ stand. “The first weekend’s almost in the books, man. How’s it feel?”
“Awesome.” I smile wildly, then take a drink from my cup. Before I do, I lift it toward him, giving him a salute of the red Solo cup. “You didn’t have to come all three nights.”
“I know.” He nods, then looks around the club. We’re about an hour from closing down, but there are still people partying, drinking, and dancing. All with my music pulsing through the high-end dance club. Turning back to me, he offers another grin. “I’m proud of you.”
I scoff with a smirk. “Okay, don’t go getting all sappy on me.”
“I’m serious. You’re like a second brother, Maddox. And I know how bad you wanted this gig. I’m stoked you got it, and even more so at how great this opening weekend went for you.”
His warm words finally crack the King of Bad exterior I try to always keep in place. It’s a nickname I’ve grown to love, for more reasons than one. Sure, it’s a cool reputation to have as the band’s bad boy, but it works wonders with the chicks. It’s not that I have a reason to hide real feelings or softer moments in my life. But now that I’ve embraced my new persona for the last couple of years, I save the real Maddox for the people that mean something to me. And Derrik, Jade, and EJ are on that small list.
“Thanks,” I reply, giving him a smile.
“Bro! Bro!” Adam hurries over, with two girls under his arms; one blonde and one redhead. “Tammy? Heidi?” He looks over at them. “I think you know the King of Bad.”
Derrik chuckles to himself, turning away, but giving me one last nod before he does.
Adam raises his eyebrows, a huge grin spreading across his face. “Tammy was just in Caleb Dexter’s indie flick …” He looks around the club, searching for the film’s name. “Home … House …”
“Home for All Time,” she corrects him.
Heidi breaks away from under his arm, grabbing mine. She’s the redhead. She’s cute, with a short, pink mini dress that clings to her tightly. It’s strapless and reveals enough cleavage that tells me she wants people to notice. I’ve seen it enough times to know the difference between people merely dressing up or being attention seekers, both male and female.
Still, she’s hot.
