Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(48)

I resolve never to speak to Dan. I’ve had friends trapped in cycles of violence in relationships and have seen the aftermath. Despite Ruby’s foul mouth and the dismissive attitude she has to me, I hurt for her. I’ve known girls like her. They’re surrounded by barbed wire to protect themselves from the world. The problem is this fences in everything that’s hurt them, trapping the pain. If Ruby’s involved with Jem Jones, he’ll get more than barbed wire scratches and it won’t be pretty.

****

Half an hour into the band’s set and my old love of live music is reignited. The girl on stage holds a presence that expands across the room and grabs the crowd by the throat. Ruby, the girl whose weakness I just witnessed, now holds her own on stage. I’m used to sanitised and remixed singers from TV; and I love and remember this intense sound from my teen years. The delicate balance between volume and skill fills the room and my mind, and Liam’s decision to come here is forgiven. No way would I like to be at a quiet restaurant and miss this.

Liam stands behind me with arms wrapped around my waist, and I’m encompassed by the warmth of his affection. There’re no wandering hands, just the occasional scrape of Liam’s rough cheek against my neck as he kisses me. For the first time in years, I’m the Cerys who is special to someone.

Following the discomfort of my visit to the backstage, if it weren’t for the way the band captured me in the first song, I’d have asked Liam if we could leave.

Once Ruby Riot finish playing, people drift away to other more interesting venues, the pub descending into relative quiet. I return to the corner that I shared with Liam; and to my surprise, the others come over too.

Will pushes a hand through his short black hair and flicks his tongue piercing over his teeth. “What did you think, Liam? Reckon we could give the next Blue Phoenix tour a go?”

Liam relaxes next to me, arm across my shoulders. “Not my call.”

“But we’re good, yeah?”

“Not bad.”

“We are good, I know. Not your kind of music, huh?” Will asks me.

“What makes you ask that?”

“Umm. Dunno. You don’t look like you’d like us.”

“Why? What do I look like?”

My earlier feeling of rewinding to my pre-Ella days, of losing myself and fitting in, screeches to a halt. Heat spreads across my back as the realisation I don’t fit in hits. I dressed down, yes, but my dressed down still makes me look like I should be with different people. Other mothers. Who am I kidding?

“It’s fine, forget it,” says Will, shifting in his seat.

“You mean I don’t have enough tattoos and piercings to be cool enough to watch your band?” I snap.

“Naw, you just don’t look like a normal fan. Look, I didn’t mean anything. You’re cool, okay?”

Sure, but if my hair was a different colour and I was wearing the correct clothes, I’d be ‘cooler’. Despite the fact I’m in a darkened corner, I feel as if there’s a spotlight on me.

“I need the bathroom,” I say to Liam and stand. My small black handbag rests on the seat next to Liam and I stare at it. Nobody else here has a handbag.

Stumbling toward the bathrooms, I keep my eyes to the floor. I’m not much different in age to these people, younger than the Blue Phoenix guys, but I may as well be ten years older. The black walls drip with condensation in the hallway, and couples hang round chatting. Thankfully, there’s no queue to get into the Ladies and I push myself through the door.

Gripping the dirty sink in the brightly lit bathrooms, I stare at my reflection. My carefully applied make-up enhances my big brown eyes, my lipstick a natural colour. Next to me, a girl with thick black hair reapplies heavy black eyeliner on her powdered pale face, and touches up her perfect red lipstick. This girl wears a disguise, part of the scene.

I’m Cerys, mum on a night out.

I worried that my lack of similarity to Honey would be the issue if I dated Liam, but this is the bigger one. My life doesn’t fit his. I doubt anyone else here has a five year old staying at a friend’s so she can have her first night out in six months.

With the decision to tell Liam I want to go home made, I head out of the bathrooms.

Liam’s waiting outside for me, resting against the opposite wall, and I pause in surprise.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m okay. Getting tired, can we go?”

He approaches and smoothes my hair, concerned eyes searching mine. “You’re not okay, I can tell.”

“I’m feeling out of place, that’s all.”

Liam sighs. “Did I do the wrong thing bringing you here? I thought you’d enjoy this. I remember you and Lou used to sneak in to see us play. You were mini-rock chicks.”

I smile weakly. “We can’t rewind life.”

“Why not? I have. I rewound to you.” He touches my lips. “You make it sound like you can’t have fun anymore. I think you need to let go and enjoy the world.”

Back in Liam’s presence, I’m less self-aware. Out of the two of us, if anyone’s going to get noticed, it won’t be me. “A night out with a badass rock star could be counted as fun.”

“Hmm. But you got stuck with a sweet one.”

I circle Liam’s taut waist and pull him close. He’s right. Who cares if I don’t fit? I fit him, the man cupping the back of my head and pulling my mouth to his.