Page 82 of Before the Encore

Chapter Twenty

Madison

“Why do you have so many vests?” Ruby scooped one up with her finger before dropping it back into the cardboard box.

“Why do you never stop talking?” Madison groaned as she set the last box down in her new living room. “I thought you were supposed to be helping.”

“I am helping.” Ruby lifted the two pillows tucked under her arm. “See.” She balanced them on top of a duvet resting on the weights machine and popped her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you bought this monstrosity before a proper bedframe.”

“Priorities.” Madison rubbed at a knot forming between her shoulder blades and looked around her apartment. It wasn’t grand or overstated, but it had everything she needed, and more importantly—it was hers.

Proof that all of the hours spent sleeping in the back of Frank’s van, juggling two jobs, and playing gigs to audiences of a handful of people had all been worth it.

Ruby scoffed, poking a box with her foot. “Besides, after the stunt you pulled at your show, you’re lucky I’m here at all.”

‘Lucky’ might not be Madison’s chosen term, but she acquiesced anyway, not wanting to unleash another one of Ruby’s rants.

Too late.

“I can’t believe you’re actually dating Bonnie Bloom.” Ruby held up a finger. “Imagine being your sister—your flesh and blood—and seeing the video online like another common peasant. Imagine sitting on a secret like that and not telling me. Me!”

“You’re not still going on about that, are you?” Madison moved a box full of pans into the open kitchen. “It was complicated.”

“I wouldn’t have told anyone.” Ruby followed her, flip-flops slapping the floor. “And it was so obvious anyway from the way you were looking at each other the night before in the dressing room.”

Madison had kept their interaction backstage brief, wary of Ruby and her sleuthing skills.

“You knew I’d rumble you. But I’m your sister. You should’ve told me.”

Madison sighed, wiping her brow on her arm. “Yes, you’re my sister, but that doesn’t mean you’re entitled to know all of my business.”

Ruby wrinkled her nose. “I found out from Devika Singh. Devika! You know how much she annoys me. She only messages me things about you or pictures of her cats. And I don’t even like cats.”

Madison’s mouth quirked, picturing their family neighbour and her three Persian cats. “Is she still the GCCF Supreme Cat Show champion?”

“No. She finished third this year.” Ruby unpacked a couple of glasses and inspected the smudges with a frown. “And Mr Pickle hissed at a judge.”

“My heart bleeds for her,” Madison deadpanned. “Are you actually going to help me or just continue to complain?”

Ruby made a show of pushing up her sleeves, even though she wasn’t wearing any. “Step aside, Ms Muscle. Let the brains handle this.”

Madison set up the stereo, playing a mix of her shouty music—as Ruby called it—and pop and indie classics while they unpacked. Ruby organised the kitchen, passing comments on her chipped plates and boring choice of glassware.

“Now that you’re not completely broke,” she said, her head inside a cupboard, “you need to purchase some crockery that doesn’t look like it was excavated from the ruins of Pompeii.”

“That’s a tad dramatic. Besides, Kam gave me these.”

Ruby hummed. “Maybe you should pay for some moving people too next time. Save me and Kam the manual labour.”

“Manual labour?” Madison scoffed. “You’ve barely lifted a finger and, well, Kam did a solid job until she left for her date. Stop complaining, or I’ll rescind the offer of a takeaway and cook for you instead.”

“Please, no. Anything but that.” Ruby clutched her chest like she was gunning for an Academy Award. “Spare me. I’m young and have so much to live for.”

Madison hauled another box onto the kitchen side. “My cooking isn’t that bad,” she muttered.

They worked together, unpacking, filling Madison’s new apartment, box by box, with singing interludes in between. Ruby teased her for knowing the words to Bonnie’s music, and Madison teased her for singing like Mr Pickle having a colonoscopy. A couple of hours later, it resembled more of a home and less of an empty shell. Wooden floors and clean white walls ran throughout the space. The small modern kitchen sat at the far end, with an island counter and two black barstools. Her sofa and gym machine took up most of the living room, but the standout feature was the balcony overlooking the shared gardens below.

Compared to some of the places Madison had stayed recently, it was barely worth another glance. But to her, this apartment was everything.