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Prologue
PlayingoutacoverofLiving on a Prayer, Frankie struggled to hit the timing of the drum part. Brow’s furrowed, concentration hardened her thirteen-year-old face as she focused so hard on her beat, that she didn’t notice Grayson sliding into a riff that wasn’t in the original and the whole thing fell apart.
“Shit, sorry,” she stammered as the twins turned to her.
“You just need to relax, Frankie. Yes, you can play the notes, but being in a band is so much more than that. You need to learn the songs, but you also need to look up and read us. We need to play as one, not as four people trying to cover the notes. Less head, more heart, little sis. Otherwise, we will replace you with a drum backing track,” Gray laughed as he shoved his sister’s shoulder playfully, turning her frown into a small smile as she stared up at him.
“Like fuck we will,” I spat out. “Backing tracks are a hard no! I want to be a band with soul. I want us to be…”
“Authentic and real. Sharing our hearts with the audience.We’ve heard all this crap before, Tanner. What we need is an audience to play to first. And given our age, that’s proving pretty hard to sort,” Maverick spoke, pulling his bass guitar up over his head and leaning it against the stand at the side of the garage.
“I’m trying, man,” I countered, knowing that not many people wanted three fifteen-year-olds and a thirteen-year-old girl on stage. “There’s the prom at school. I’ve asked Mr. Fenchurch if I can talk to him about it next week. I know we won’t get paid, but at least we’ll get to play.”
“Yeah, ’cause we’re ready to play in front of an audience. I’m holding you all back. The only reason you’ve not kicked me out of the band is because Mum won’t let you,” Frankie whined, and none of us argued with her. She stared at us all, one by one, eyes blazing. “You three are assholes. I’m telling Mum.”
Her drumsticks clattered to the floor, where she’d thrown them in a teenage strop before she stormed to the front of the garage, pulling up the door, blinding us all with the low setting sun as it streamed into our dark space.
Laughing at her, I ran my fingers through my damp, sweaty hair. “God, it’s too hot. One day, we’ll get to practice in a studio with air conditioning and beautiful women will bring us iced beverages without us even having to ask,” I mused as I pulled my t-shirt up over my head. The movement made me wince as the dull pain in my ribs bounced through my body, making me instantly regret stripping it off in front of my friends. Fleetingly, I wondered if I should pull my shirt back on, but decided that would look weird. I could style out any questions, and I was sure the bruises on my back would have faded by now, even if my broken ribs hadn’t healed.
I slipped in the shower, fell over getting a drink in the dark…I thought through all the excuses I’d used over the years, to make sure I didn’t repeat them, while I waited anxiously for a comment or a question from Grayson or Maverick—the twins—but they didn’t say a word or seem to notice my discomfort. I walked over to pull a bottle of water from the mini-fridge we kept in here, that the twin’s mum, Lori, filled for us each week, when I heard a gasp.
I turned to find where it was coming from and saw Lori and Frankie standing in the doorway, staring at me.
Shit.
“Tanner, sweetie. What happened to your back?” Lori asked, mum-level worry hanging heavy in her voice.
“Oh, you know? Boys will be boys.”
“Those are some pretty serious bruises. Did you get into a fight?”
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s it. It was a while ago now. I’m nearly healed.”
“Fight?” Maverick questioned, raising his eyebrow at me. “You never said? Who with? When?”
“Erm. I got jumped on the way home. I felt like a proper tit, so I didn’t mention it. You know, I have a hard man rep to protect,” I winked, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions, but knowing deep down that this was far from over.
“Someone from school?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t really see them. Look, I’m not being rude, but I don’t want to talk about it. It’s in the past. Can we just…”
“Tanner, you know you can talk to me or Phil if you ever have any problems? Whatever it is. We can help, sweet boy. I know you have your mum, but if you need us, we’re always here. You’re part of the family and I’d hate to think you were suffering in silence.”
I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, tears burning the back of my eyes. My secrets forcing themselves against my lips, hammering hard to escape.
“Thanks, Lori. It’s sweet of you, but I’m fine. It was a stupid fight,” I managed to squeeze out, past the gigantic lump in my throat. “Speaking of Mum, I should probably get home for dinner. I’ll see you all tomorrow at school.” I pulled my tattered old band t-shirt back on and zipped my guitar back into its case, before pulling the strap over my shoulder and twisting it behind my back. My jaw tensed to hide the pain from my aching ribs. They suddenly seemed to hurt even more because I knew everyone had their eyes on me, having seen my bruises.
The guys lifted their hands in silent waves and Frankie nodded at me, but I couldn’t help but notice the look of pity in her eyes.I fucking hate seeing that look. I don’t need pity.
Without another word, I headed out into the evening air, knowing there would be no one at home waiting to make me dinner. In fact, there wouldn’t be any dinner.
Turning my key in the lock, I pushed open the flimsy door. The peeling paint was rough under my palm as I stepped inside. I didn’t know what hit first or hit the hardest.
The silence, the smell, or the cold.
Although it had been warm outside, the lack of heat in the house filtered into my bones, making them ache. I closed the front door, rested my guitar against the wall, and headed to the kitchen. I flicked the lights on out of habit, although I didn’t know why because they hadn’t worked in weeks. Neither had the fridge or the gas. They’d cut everything off when no one paid the bills. The fridge was empty and what money I did have was visible in the takeaway containers that littered the kitchen counters.
The money had run out a couple of weeks ago, so the only thing I’d eaten was the food I got when Lori invited me to stay for dinner. Luckily, she was the kindest woman I’d ever met, so she asked me to stay and eat with them all most nights. My stomach rumbled loudly as if to remind me that last night’s dinner was the last thing I’d eaten, and I was so desperate for a warm shower, my skin itched.
