Page 10 of Electric Touch

Once we check in and go into our separate rooms, I give the place a once over. It isn’t like any hotel room I’ve stayed in before and despite myself, I’m amused by the glass enclosed bathroom. At least it is only the shower, the toilet is in a separate room.

After using the shower, I throw on some old jeans, a black t-shirt and black button-up shirt. We meet out front, walking a few blocks to the Brooklyn Shake Shack. I love how much my brother is enjoying himself. I took on the role of father figure when our parents split up. Dad moved out of state for his job. We still see him on birthdays and every Christmas and he gets back for Thanksgiving too.

Our parents tried to stay together, but they were unhappy. We were all better off once they split. With both of them happier and able to get along as friends, it made life easier for us. He isn’t a dead-beat dad, he’s in our lives, we speak regularly and he’s never once called off a visit. He’d flown back when Dylan fell off the top of our garage and broke his leg. None of it made up for us not being able to open a door and have him there. So I took that role on for my little brother.

Dylan could have resented me for butting into his life, but it made us closer. Riley used to say we were joined at the hip, sometimes joking she was dating both of us.

We finish up our food and head out. We’ve been in New York for a while, but haven’t ventured across to Brooklyn. I’d like to come back when we have free time, it seems like a cool place. It has a chill vibe about it with plenty of good bars and restaurants along the walk to the venue.

We’re into Vista Kicks, so when he said he got tickets, I’d been thrilled. We get in the line and wait, the queue moving slowly.

“How long before we no longer have to do this?” Dylan asks me, bouncing on his toes.

I shrug. We are getting recognised in some places. In a city this big, used to celebrities wandering the streets, we don’t stand out from the crowd. Not yet, at least. Dylan is champing at the bit to be recognised and chased. It is a side of the business I’m not looking forward to, though it comes with success. For now, we are still getting away with it. I shouldn’t wish away the idea of becoming famous enough that people stop us in the street, it will be nice to vindicate all the hard work. BreakNeck has security on them all the time, they can’t go anywhere alone. They seem to get by okay, though. At least, I never see them pissed about not being able to go out like normal people.

Dylan tells me about the venue we are heading into. He knows every place you can put on a show in the city. Back when we were organising our own gigs, Dylan was the one who did the research. He booked us in and dealt with getting to and from the places we played. He and Riley worked on our promotion, too, without their hard work, I wasn’t sure we would have been as visible as we were. We most likely never would have got on Declan or Bliss Records radar, despite our talent and small following.

Once we’re inside, we head to the downstairs bar area and get some beers. The show isn’t starting for another forty minutes. Dylan overestimated how quickly we’d get here from the hotel, which is not unheard of. He’s OCD about getting to places on time. I don’t mind, it is an amazing space, and it fills up fast. I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone, despite Riley and I no longer being together. There is something holding me back and Dylan is making it his mission to talk to as many women as possible before we head upstairs.

Our incognito status doesn’t last long, when one girl recognises us. Dylan keeps it contained to her friend group. We take some pictures and sign stuff as discretely as we can. He buys them drinks to keep them quiet. As much as Dylan wants to be famous, he knows tonight isn’t about that, I don’t want my every move to be scrutinised, I want to chill.

When it’s announced the show is about to start, we head upstairs. The women have latched on to us. Although I’m not into it, I don’t try to lose them. Two of them are older than us, the third, who recognised us and is hanging all over Dylan, seems to be ten years their junior, she looks like jailbait. Girls can make themselves appear a hell of a lot older than they are. Dylan is respectful, he isn’t getting handsy, despite how he’s flirting. The two other women don’t seem to care, so she probably isn’t underage.

I shouldn’t worry about stuff like this. But being in the public eye means we’ll be watched, ready for any slip up to occur. We need to prepare for that. There is no harm in starting it now, who knows what this girl can do with photographs, what lies she can hatch. I make sure my brother doesn’t get into trouble, filling him in on my suspicions. He looks horrified at the thought and pulls back a little.

The band is outstanding. About an hour in, my bladder is bursting. I tap Dylan’s shoulder and tell him I’m going to the bathroom, then fight my way through the crowds to the stairs. The music fades as I leave the main floor. The bar area is mostly empty, the staff hanging around chatting. There are some people here, using the restrooms or buying drinks.

There is one other guy in the men’s room, he is huge and covered in tattoos and doesn’t acknowledge me coming in. It’s men’s room etiquette. After I’m done, I figure it’s a good idea to pick up drinks, so head to the bar. The tall guy is there with a woman and they are in a heated discussion.

I lean against the bar and ask for four beers, save us having to come back downstairs again, they will be enough until we leave. I can’t help but overhear what the couple beside me are talking about, though I try not to give away I’m eavesdropping. I glance at them and do a double take at the woman.

Why does she seem familiar? I’ve met a lot of women since we came to New York, but I don’t recollect talking with this girl, yet feel like I know her. Pretty sure I would remember her if we interacted.

She is dark-haired with tan skin, and green eyes, like soft moss. My eyes trail down her body. She is wearing a strapless white summer dress with purple Chuck Taylors and the dress hugs her body, accentuating her voluptuous tits. I feel like a pervert for checking her out when she is here with a guy, one likely to take me out with one punch. The bartender places my beers on the bar.

“Apollo, don’t push it, okay? I want to have fun tonight and not worry about that.”

“It’s the perfect opportunity. There are hundreds of strangers here.”

“So? I’m not drunk enough to even try.”

“The whole point is to get out of your comfort zone, Tia.”

“I wouldn’t have come if I thought you were going to get on my case,” she bristles.

I glance at them again, wondering what the fuck they’re talking about. Seems like this guy is trying to force her to do something she doesn’t want to. I don’t want to intervene, but I don’t like their conversation. Despite the way they are disagreeing, she doesn’t appear under duress, or like she doesn’t want to be here with him. She has a perplexed look on her face as she sips from her beer. Shit, she is beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off her.

“It’s simple. All you have to do is pick someone and go for it,” the man says.

“Oh, it’s that simple. Do you even know me?”

“Yes,” the tall guy laughs. “Which is why you need the push.”

“You had this planned all along, didn’t you?”

“Well, you’re still holding off on the tattoo, despite me drawing up an awesome design. Why wouldn’t I push you to move on to something else?”

“But… There is no one here I would do it with…” she trails off, looking around the bar. The tall guy does the same. His eyes land on me and he nudges her, jerking his head in my direction.

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