Page 110 of Cherry Beats

Sex on the balcony of our suite.

Private gatherings at celebrity mansions.

We were living in excess: money wasn’t a problem, cheap wine was on tap, and all our morals had been left in London. Presley seemed lighter than air, and I allowed myself to become caught up in the cloud of it, bobbing along at speed, not knowing where this was taking me or where I would end up. I’d never really done the young, girly holidays or the mental club scene days, so I reasoned with myself that this wasmyyouth gone wild. This wasmytime to enjoy life. This wasmytime to let my hair down. I was young, and where I’d once dreamed of being older, responsible, and in control, suddenly I wanted all the freedom that youth allowed you to have, both physically and morally.

If this was my one shot at living in the fast lane, I was going to take it—consequences to be calculated at a later date.

That night, Presley and the guys were due to play a show at Le Zenith, one of the largest music venues in the city of Paris according to Julia, and one she was excited for Youth Gone Wild to be playing at… again.

“Are you nervous?” I asked Presley, who was tugging his jacket into place before he pushed a dark grey beanie hat onto his head, positioning it perfectly so it showed a spattering of his famous blonde locks.

“Why would I be nervous?”

“I don’t know.” I was busy pushing my foot into my Doc Marten, while also wondering if I looked good enough wearing my leather trousers and an over-sized cream jumper that fell off one shoulder. “It seems to me like this show is a big deal, that’s all. Julia keeps reminding us we can’t be late. Rhett seems to be bouncing.”

“Rhett’s always bouncing.”

“Today more so than usual.” I stood up and tugged on my jumper to make it sit right.

Presley came in front of me, pushed his hands into my hair and pinned it up at the back of my head. “As long as I get to create the music, I don’t care where I am.” His eyes drifted to my bare shoulder, lingering there. “Do me a favour, will you?”

“What?”

He gathered my hair into one hand, holding it up, and he brought down his free hand, trailing a soft stroke of his thumb across my skin. “Wear your hair up tonight. This shoulder is teasing me, and I like it. I want more of that.”

I never knew how he did that: seduced me with such simplicity. The tone of his voice enough to make my knees go weak.

“Okay,” I whispered, smiling back at him. Presley dropped a soft kiss to my bare shoulder and then began to guide me out of the room, my brain left somewhere behind me as I rolled on the wave of excitement he drowned me in.

We arrived at Le Zenith in the early afternoon, where the guys were guided into the stadium to begin their sound check. You didn’t have to be a music lover to appreciate the sight of it but being one anyway sure as shit made that one of those wildest experiences of my life.

The sounds echoed around the empty arena, and all I could do was grin like a fool as I looked around at the empty seats, knowing what those fans were going to experience later that night. There was so much activity. It wasn’t just a village that got the band on the road—it was a city… a whole damn country. Men and women marched back and forth, new equipment being rolled in until I wasn’t sure where they were going to put the latest pieces. Lights were tested. Rhett came to life on that stage, even without an audience. Coops, Big D, and Hawk took it in their stride, walking around the stage slowly with smiles on their faces as they made jokes back and forth. But even in the background, Presley shone. He could have been in a dark corner, trying to hide from the world, and every pair of eyes in that room would have chosen him to stare at. He wasn’t a natural entertainer like Rhett. Presley was a performer. He lived for those beats. The sound of those sticks hitting his drums was his oxygen. It was hypnotising.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

I spun around to see Uncle Dex standing there with his hands pushed into the depths of his jean pockets, a smug smile on his face as he rocked back on the heels of his boots.

“Dex!” I threw my arms around him.

“Woah.” He laughed as I pulled away. “A young woman hasn’t looked that happy to see me in a long time.”

“What can I say? It’s nice to see someone whose name I actually know.”

“Paris burning you out, Tess?”

“No,” I half-lied, hiding it behind a smile that at least felt genuine. In truth, I was becoming exhausted, wondering how long I could keep this up without ageing ten years and being able to rest a finger in the lines of my crow’s feet. “It’s amazing. Manic, but amazing.”

“A bit different to Hollings Hill, right?”

It took the mention of my hometown for me to realise how little I’d thought of it while out here in France. “So different,” I answered softly, letting my hands fall by my sides before I turned back to look at Presley and the guys discussing something on the stage. Presley’s arm was aimed high at the lights above as though he was offering an idea or having issue with something.

“His dad would be so proud,” Uncle Dex said quietly, and it immediately made a lump form in my throat.

“How old was he, Dex?”

“Jimmy?”

I turned to face him. “That’s his dad’s name?”

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