Book4: ROCK ME
He lifts his head, his eyes red, his hair dripping, the wet clothes clinging to every inch of his body.
“I’m sorry that I’m not… him. Not anymore.”
“I never knew him. I know you. I want you. The you in front of me now.”
“Even though I’m broken?”
“Every single jagged, fragile, imperfect piece.”
Jez is soaring, on top of the world, Grammy in my hands. Women at his feet.
But it’s one woman he wants in particular.
She is crazy, passionate, sexy, sassy… and she’s embedded herself in his brain, his heart.
And what Jez wants, Jez gets, and nothing is going to stop him making him hers.
But as they say, how the mighty can fall and in a split second his whole life comes crashing down around him.
And as he tries to put together the pieces of his life, fate brings him face to face with the one woman who can heal him.
If only, she wasn’t broken herself.
Rock Me, the fourth and final book in the Rock Chamber Boys series, will take you on an explosive, complex, sexy, heart wrenching ride of rock star battered and bruised, trying to fight his way back to the only thing that ever matters, love.
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It’s silent.
Totally, completely, silent.
And dark.
So dark, the gentle green glow of light from the exit signs in the far-off distance provides the only relief for the eyes.
Something to focus on, other than the abyss.
Something to focus on, other than the burn of the chemicals flooding into each and every one of my cells, signaling that it’s almost time.
Adrenalin.
It’s fight or flight.
Fight.
Every fucking time, I choose fight.
Fight for my right to be here, right here, and nowhere else in the world in this exact moment in time.
It’s time.
And right on cue, our world explodes into life.
Pure, white bright light. Cleansing everything and everyone of all that came before it.
Nothing exists except what is happening now. It is the new age.
Then, as suddenly as it appears, light recedes into nothing.
And it’s dark again.
We wait, until the cheers die down and it’s silent again.
A single spotlight appears and shines just on me, and I take one long, slow breath.
And I count it in.
One. Two. Three. Four.
It’s fucking on, bitches.
I stomp my foot and clap my hands to the beat in my head.
That unmistakable, iconic, rock of all rock beats.
Queen’s We Will Rock You.
Dum Dum Da. Dum Dum Da.
My bandmates join in on the second loop, from their spots around the stage, still cloaked in darkness.
Dum Dum Da. Dum Dum Da.
And finally, I pull my bow over my cello strings, the driving, thumping, almost repetitive melody dancing over the beat of the stomps and claps.
I can’t help the smile twitching at the corners of my mouth as I hear the crowd stomp along, their cheers filling in all the pockets of silence that was just blanketing us all.
A second cello joins me for the second stanza.
“You beautiful bitch, Sebastian,” I think, as my I picture my bandmate’s fingers going into overdrive over the fingerplate.
It replaces my line and I jump a third below, drawing the harmony out from the strings with my bow, having a play with the arrangement.
Never the same, it’s never the fucking same.
Just the way we like it.
I’ll never get tired of how our cellos fit like perfectly laid out pieces of a music puzzle.
I count the bars in my head, two more until the chorus.
There’s suddenly the taste of metal in my mouth, blood, my teeth digging hard into my lip without me realizing it. Out of pure anticipation.
I’ve been waiting for this moment a fucking long time.
We’ve been saving this for a special performance, and this is it.
The chorus.
The single spotlight surrounding me suddenly blasts into a thousand, splintered light dancing over every inch of the stage, the crowd, the walls, the ceiling, and every fucking voice in the place raises in unison, in song. “WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!”
“Sing iiiiiiittt,” I yell into the microphone, my voice echoing off the walls.
And they obey, as the rest of my band joins in with their violin and viola, rocking out every chord as Queen intended.
“What are we gonna do?” I hear Sebastian scream into his mic, and right on time, the crown joins in again, “WE WILL, WE WILL ROCK YOU!!”
My fingers burn as they move over the cello, each note ingrained in their cells from hours of practice, as my other arm moves the bow back and forth, the torn blonde horse hairs whipping back and forth, shining like spun gold against the light. The sound fills me from the floor up, the vibrations from the sound system like heart beats against my shoes.
Giving me life.
There’s a break in the cello part, the perfect moment to make my move. Sebastian glances over to me and I flash him a grin and he nods and gives me a wink.
It’s on. The solo is mine. We never really know who’s going to take it until we’re on stage. Solo performance is more than planning. It’s destined. You don’t know your number is up until you’re standing on stage and it calls to you.
I step forward and take my place center stage, tip my head back, taking it all in, and lose myself in the chaos.
I was born for this.
I would die for this.
JEZ
The applause is so loud, I can barely hear the sound of the stage hand’s voice as he’s yelling directions to us.
“Stage left, stage left!” I think he’s saying as we’re ushered backstage.
“Stay here guys,” someone tells us, gesturing to an empty spot right in the wings. “Your category’s up next.”
“Fuck!” Sebastian says, as we’re all pushed together in a tight circle.
“Shush! Quiet, and no swearing!” Someone with a clipboard reprimands him.
“Oh shit, I’m so fucking sorry.” Sebastian whispers back, covering his mouth.
“Nice one.” I roll my eyes at him.
He frowns and punches me on the shoulder. “Leave me alone, I’m nervous.”
I don’t blame him. You never get used to this. Waiting to hear, waiting to hear if we’ve won it. Won a goddamn freaking Grammy. But this one… this one’s special. Song of the year. This one’s an original, and borne from nothing but our hearts and souls. This is the one we’ve all been waiting for.
I look down, only just realizing we’ve managed to clasp each other’s hands. I squeeze whoever’s hand I’m holding tight, and Marius yelps a little, and looks at me. He looks even more nervous than Sebastian does.
“Good luck, guys,” I whisper to my band brothers.
“Break a leg.”
“Break all the fucking legs,” Sebastian rasps.
The hubbub around us never stops, but for a moment, it’s just the four of us, 13 years old, practicing in Brad’s parents’ basement, wondering if anyone would ever hear a thing we played.
And now…
“The Grammy, for best song goes to Forest Lullaby by The Rock Chamber Boys.”
For a moment. It’s completely silent again. And then Marius screams in my ear and we all run onto the stage. The roar from the crowd embeds itself into my brain and I look out into the ocean of cheering faces, dizzy. Someone puts an award into my hand and everything moves as if in slow motion. I see Sebastian grab the microphone and he’s blubbering into it, listing off names.