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‘Who the fuck are you trying to impress?’
Gregg sits up tall and pushes his shoulders back. ‘It’s Christmas. Nothing wrong with making an effort. Maybe you should try it. Let Bria show you there’s more in the world of fashion than just jeans and t-shirts.’
Tate narrows his eyes as he glares at his friend. ‘She’s got to you.’
‘She may have mentioned something in passing. And there’s nothing to say a little added sparkle will do the band any harm. It’ll make us stand out from the other rock bands, that’s for sure.’
Shane joins in as Gregg laughs at the look on Tate’s face.
‘I should get a photo of that. Your face is priceless. You’re too easy, mate.’
‘Just for that I’m dragging the rest of you along with me next time I’m being interviewed.’
‘Ah now that’s not how it works, buddy. Your job description is song writer, lead guitarist, lead vocalist, and the person who has to show their face in front of our adoring public as much as possible. That means you get all the tedious interviews to handle alone. Part of the deal.’
‘Thanks,’ Tate replies sarcastically while failing to stifle a yawn. ‘How the hell do you have so much energy? I’m seriously struggling.’
Gregg holds up a bag of sweets. ‘Sugar rush, my friend. Who needs sleep when you’ve got gummy bears? I’m not looking forward to landing after these babies.’
‘Are Dillon and Luke still here?’
‘Went home about an hour ago. Too many all-nighters finally caught up with them. So, you give out many autographs yet?’ Gregg asks as he pops another few bears into his mouth.
‘What? No. I haven’t. They’re my family. Hang on, have you?’
He nods. ‘Four. You know, I could get used to this celebrity thing. Had a few requests for tickets to our next gig too.’
‘Fuck sake. I’m sorry, man. That’s not on.’
Gregg shrugs. ‘Whatever. Let them ooh and ah over us. It’s Christmas.’
Shane nudges Tate on the arm and raises his bottle towards the door. Their uncle Eric is pushing through the crowd, waving frantically in their direction. Gregg looks over his shoulder then turns back to Tate. ‘You didn’t tell me you have a groupie in your family?’
‘If either of you leave me alone with him, I will kill you,’ Tate mutters under his breath before smiling widely. ‘Happy Christmas, Uncle Eric!’
‘Nice to see you, Tate. I hear congratulations are in order. Christmas number one for the fourth year.’
Tate glares at Gregg as he waves and makes his escape into the living room. ‘Thanks, but it’s only the second year.’
‘Are you sure? Ah. Never mind. Are you back for long?’
‘A few weeks. We’ve got the second leg of our tour starting in February.’
‘It must be so exciting travelling all over the world. I was only telling Dara the other day that he should have kept up the guitar lessons. He could have been part of your band. Imagine that. Two cousins playing guitar together in the same band.’
Tate takes another drink from his beer as that image plays out in his head. There’s no fucking way he’d ever have his cousin in the band. First, he’s family, so that’s a big no. Second, Dara had been a pain in his ass for as long as he can remember. Tate had grown up being compared to him and even to this day he still fell short. Dara’s a happily married successful lawyer. He’s a successful rock star with a string of very public, failed relationships. Apparently, being thirty-six and still unattached is a major life fail.
Tate swallows his beer without choking and smiles at Eric. ‘Yeah. Shame about that. That would have been great. How is Dara?’
‘He’s good. Made partner in his firm finally. Baby on the way too so it’s all very exciting.’
He ignores Shane sticking a finger in his ribs. ‘That’s great. Tell him I said hi.’
‘Wait one minute. I should show you a picture of the baby.’ Eric rummages in his pocket and pulls out his phone.
‘I didn’t think it was due yet?’
‘The scan picture,’ Eric replies. Tate’s acting skills come in a treat as he makes all the right noises when Eric shows him a black and white image of what looks like a kidney bean.
