Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(25)

Following a restless night filled with images of Cerys in various positions, naked, with me, I crawled out of bed having slept in until early afternoon. My phone rang incessantly for an hour before I gave in and answered. Blue Phoenix manager, Steve, calling me when I told him I was to be left alone over Christmas pissed me off.

Until he told me why he was calling, and the world outside of magical Welsh Christmases in the snow gatecrashed my time with Cerys. Jem’s girlfriend, Liv, the heiress six years younger than him with connections to British nobility is dead.

Summoned to discuss how we’ll deal with the media fall out, I had no choice but to come here.

“Where is he?” I ask Steve.

“Jem finally agreed to talk to the police, so he’s still there,” says Steve.

Our manager’s hair greys more every week, I swear. Today his lined, pale face looks older; and understandably, by Blue Phoenix standards this is an off-the-scale scandal.

Dylan sits with arms tightly crossed over his chest, mouth set in a thin line. I heard him talking to Steve in terse tones about getting dragged into the circumstances around her death. Dylan spent time at the police station too, guilt by association; but he was with Sky when Liv died. Apparently, Sky is around somewhere too.

“Tina will be here soon, she needs to release a press statement ASAP. I need firm statements on where you all were last night.” He glances at Dylan. “I know you’ve been through this with the police, so probably not such an issue for you; but Bryn and Liam, we need to know everything you’ve been up to over the last week or so. The press is on our backs and you can guarantee any dirt they can dig will make a nice sideline to Jem’s f-uck up.”

“Jem said he had nothing to do with this,” says Dylan. “I believe him.”

“Dylan, if this Sky chick is back in the scene, I suggest you hang around here until things die down. Unless you feel like deflecting some attention by announcing your relationship.”

Dylan stiffens. “What the f-uck, Steve? No way. Things with Sky are shaky; I don’t want her running for the hills again!”

Steve huffs. “Bryn?”

Bryn wrinkles his nose. “Nothing juicy going on in my life. Not that anyone knows about anyway.”

“This isn’t funny, Bryn,” snaps Steve.

“I’m not being funny. I just know how to keep under the radar.”

Steve turns to me. “Liam. I kept out of this, but what the hell has happened between you and Barbie? We saw the pictures. You’re here; she’s in the US. Is it over?”

I knew this question was coming. Three pairs of eyes train on me and I rub my hand over my face. “I ended the engagement and went back to Wales to get my head together. I haven’t spoken to her for over a week.”

“So it is over?” asks Steve brusquely.

Wales and Cerys are a world away from this weird shit. All I wanted was a quiet few days away from my job like anyone else at Christmas. Then this happens and I realise this isn’t a job or something I ever take a break from. I’m Liam Oliver, bass player of Blue Phoenix and property of the public. I cope with this better than Dylan and Jem, I don’t face exactly the same scrutiny, but I really haven’t put thought into how my break-up with Honey is going to bring attention I don’t want. A vengeful part of me pictures myself and Cerys in pictures on the internet, pissing off Honey and showing her I can do the same. But that cheapens Cerys, and belittles what’s between us.

I stun myself. Between us?

“Yeah, it’s over with Honey.”

Nobody responds and I don’t want them to. I don’t care about their opinion.

“He has a new girl in his life,” says Bryn and I snap my head up.

“What the f-uck?” I say.

“Yeah, how old is she? Three?”

He’s grinning, being typical Bryn with his weird sense of humour, but his comment makes things worse. Steve slams his hands on the table. “Jesus f-ucking Christ, Liam! Have you got a secret kid?” Not funny Bryn, the poor guy’s got enough to deal with.

“No, I haven’t! She’s Cerys’s daughter.”

“Cerys?” asks Bryn, sitting forward with his elbows on the table. “You never said that’s who it was when I spoke to you the other day. She’s got a kid now? Wow, she’s young for that.”

“Okay, not your kid. Good. Right.” Steve dismisses me. “Bryn?”

“Have I got a secret love child? I have six. Hang on, no, seven.”

“Not helpful! I need to make sure you’re free of shit they can drag up. Where’ve you been staying recently?”

Bryn’s grin disappears. “I said, under the radar.”

“With?”

“Me, myself, and I. Shit, Steve, I’m the drummer, nobody cares.”

I glance at Dylan who stares at the table as if he’s not really present. Am I selfish, not wanting to support Jem? Maybe, but I’m over his dragging us down. Between him and Dylan, the crazy doesn’t stop and I’m over it.

“What do you expect us to do, Steve?” asks Dylan. “All stay here for a happy Christmas?”

“I reckon you boys should go back to the States until this blows over,” Steve replies

“No way!” I say. “I understand this is bad, but I’m not going back there yet! Besides, Jem needs support, right? We can’t all f-uck off and leave him.”