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My brother makes the sign for'Gun,'his lips moving in the word 'Shoot.'
'I'm only telling you because I know how much you like rock, and this guy is the frontman of some famous band.'
Jared tilts his head, his interest piqued. ‘Which band?'
I finger-spell the name Penny gave me:'Burning 21'.
My brother scoffs. ‘Well, I'm never listening to one of their stupid songs again!'
I giggle. ‘Dramatic much?!'
He crosses his arms and practically grumbles. ‘No one messes with my sister!'
I affectionately pat his shoulder.'But are they any good?'
My brother looks up at me.'Uh?'
'The songs that they play… are they any good?'
'Yeah…'Jared signs reluctantly, looking very much put-upon at the admission, and I laugh, shaking my head.
Dang, I should have simply told a little white lie and made up that I had just passed Big Grumpy in the hall or something.
Whatever my fishing expedition was about, it's sure was a failure: no way I'm getting this big lug to shed any light onto Mr. Gabriel andBurning 21now.
CHAPTER7
Carson
Iput down my Fender acoustic bass guitar and pick up my electric black and chrome custom-made Markbass piece from its stand in the corner of the suite.
I got to work on my fingering. I've had a new riff stuck in my head for the last twenty-four hours with a bassline that I just know it's going to soon be utterly central to some new track.
I don't know which song yet, but I know it's going to be different, with fewer effects and fewer synths. Not our usual fuzzy tones for my bassline, either. I want something resounding, highlighted by some really high pitches from Rick's guitar and a steady bring-the-house-down drumming session from Sly.
I didn't even bring it up with the guys when we all respectively crawled out of our comas to have a breakfast meeting today —at 2 in the afternoon — but I know it's going to be something big.
My fingers are hitching to fall on the strings, following the path that my soul is carving for the music, but something isn't quite right.
As soon as I start losing myself in the play, I see golden-brown eyes full of hurt and that beautiful face and my heart just wants to give the fuck up.
Can someone become obsessed with a person in less than a day?
'Cause I think that's what happened to me.
I've been on the prowl like a lion since my eyes flung open again today, trying to find out as much as I could about the little beauty that I scared. Not an easy task.
The staff was looking all squinty-eyed at me whenever I stopped any of them in their tracks to describe this particular girl to them and asked for her name.
The first four people I talked to knew who I was talking about, they nodded along at my description of her long dark hair and golden skin, but they could only identify her as thedeaf girl,something that didn't sit too well with me.
I don't know her, but even I know that's a fucked up way to call someone, especially when you didn't even bother to learn their name.
The fifth person I spoke with didn't add much to my findings. To her, my mystery pretty little thing wasthe deaf girl with the cleaning crew.
By the time I got around to speaking with one of the managers, the full identifier wasthe deaf girl with the cleaning crew that works the afternoon shifts.
Still no name.
