Page 10 of Touch in the Dark

“You woke me, and probably half the building, because you’re being an emo bitch,” I throw back at him and he scowls, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’m not dealing with any more noise complaints from the Resident’s Association,” I add, hating in my head I sound like a fucking Karen.

Archer looks away from me and out of the window beside him. I know he’s struggling. He is the only one not fully on board with us coming back from the West Coast. The whole band upped stakes and moved to L.A. when we got a recording contract ten years ago and never looked back. Till now.

I don’t want to come off like an asshole, so I sit down on the weight bench and watch my friend. We have known each other since middle school, we all grew up in White Plains. The four of us hit it off and once we realised we shared a love of music, we started our own band, never beliving for a second we would become what we are now.

BreakNeck, is currently one of the biggest rock bands in the world. We’ve just released our ten-year anniversary album and Bianca, our manager is in full on bitch mode booking us for all kinds of appearances, press, interviews, and photoshoots. We have a shoot this afternoon, then a party. I’m not sure why it’s pissing Arch off so much, usually he is the first through the door of an industry party.

He stands with his back to me, hands on his hips as he watches the city below. He has been hitting the gym hard lately.

He’s tall, built and blond, likened to a viking by our legions of fans. He’s been growing in a beard the past few months too and spends all his time in the bathroom grooming it. He is the heart of our band, the one who pulls us through when things get shit, the sensible one out of the four of us. I’m classed as the quiet, introspective one, Adam is the temperamental lead singer who does things like leave in the middle of a tour, or fall in love with a literary agent in New York City. And Jordan, there is really no describing him, he is a law unto himself. Although, he shocked the shit out of all of us when he got a girlfriend. For the last ten years, our drummer, the joker and pain in our manager’s ass, has slept his way through enough groupies to fill one of the arenas we play. It looks like he’s turned over a new leaf, though all of us are waiting for it to implode.

Given his girlfriend is in New York too, it does not bode well for this being a temporary arrangement. As a band, we discussed the temporary move and agreed this was the right time for us to come home, to write and record our anniversary album where we grew up, with the producers who worked on our first album.

We all know there is more to it than that and in reality we are split fifty fifty over the decision. I’m still not one hundred percent convinced I want to stay here. It’s nice to be near my grandma, she’s getting on, and was so happy when I told her I would be around for a while.

I can afford to keep my place in L.A. We all have in fact. We don’t have to live in the same city, it’s easy enough for us to fly wherever we’re needed, but it kind of means we’d be breaking up. Not the band, or our friendship, but living across the country from one another won’t make things easy. In the last ten years, we have worked and lived practically on top of one another. There are disputes and arguments, sure, no four people can live and work that close without it, but none of that ever lasts long. We’re brothers, always will be. Although, what I initially considered to be a blip on the road, could be more than we realise. Adam proposed to Jenna two months ago and we all know her life is in New York.

“What’s eating you?” I ask as I pick up a kettle bell weight and mindlessly lift it up and down. Usually Archer is an open book so this isn’t normal.

“Nothing, just needed to let off some steam.”

“At stupid o’clock in the morning, with music louder than some venues we’ve played?”

“Don’t exaggerate,” he turns to face me, absently rubbing his hand over his stomach. I arch a brow. “Okay, fine, it was too loud. I’m used to being able to do this without worrying someone is gonna overreact.”

“When you had a house all to yourself with no one close enough to hear an explosion, never mind some techno booming shit.”

He doesn’t answer. Archer’s house in L.A. is stupidly huge. He went all out when we got our first decent paycheck and bought a Spanish monstrosity in the Hollywood Hills. It has two swimming pools, a six-car garage which he has filled and a basement movie theatre. He grew up in a small house and had to share a room with two brothers, so it is understandable he went nuts, when the rest of us just bought mildly ostentatious, yet private homes.

“It sucks, but we have other people to think about here.”

He swore under his breath. “We’re going to receive a strongly worded email aren’t we?”

I laugh. “Rather an email than someone banging on the door. Although if you keep it up, that’s gonna happen too. And when it does, you can handle it.”

“Maybe it’ll be a hot chick.”

I give him a look that says he’s dreaming. “In the real world, hot chicks don’t go around knocking on their neighbours doors telling them to keep it down. This isn’t one of Jenna’s romance books.”

That got a chuckle out of him. Jenna’s literary agency represents a lot of romance authors and we recently learned all about the phenomenon of ‘reverse harem romance’. I am also not ashamed to say I’ve downloaded a few of those books to the Kindle Jenna got me. She keeps me supplied with recommendations too. It is a fantasy, not something I’ll ever engage in. I’m way too alpha to allow any woman I’m with to get dicked by four other guys in front of me. Reading about it though…

“I’ll keep it down, dad,” Archer rolls his eyes, and breaks me out of my thoughts.

I huff out a laugh. “See that you do. Or I’ll ground you.”

“Gladly. Lock me in my room so I don’t need to go anywhere for the next two weeks.”

“You know Bianca would come up here and drag your ass out kicking and screaming.”

“Yeah,” he says with a resigned sigh. “What’s the deal today?

“Photoshoot and party,” I remind him, surprised again he’s forgotten the schedule.

“Christ. What’s the shoot for?”

I frown, it’s usually Adam grousing about these shoots, mostly because they dress us up like Ken dolls and we have to wear a ton of makeup. I’m used to it, it’s part of the job, I don’t see the point in getting riled up about it.

“GQ.”

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