The Hysterics (3 page)

She called my drum set a “kit”, and that was it.

I had to shout over the crowd’s roars. “Oh yeah!” I couldn’t help but laugh at her compliment of the DW. “She’s pretty great. You been around a lot of bands before?” 

Right then the world stopped around me. I was standing in front of Fallon Dunbar, the former drummer of Regicide Assisted, a band that had just broken up because rumor had it their drummer had died from an overdose of coke. She was a legend in the underground circuit, but she had flown in under my radar. I decided to not let Fae—Fallon – know I’d figured out her alter ego and went along with the sheer surprise of standing in the presence of an awesome chick.

I tested my luck and was completely shot down. I figured she had met too many jackass musicians on the road and decided to not become another one. We danced and listened to my friend’s band play a few songs until I finally was able to get her alone on the street. I pressed my hand on the small of her back and brought her in for one hell of a kiss. Her lips were so soft and she tasted like sheer fuckable magic, not to mention how incredible her lip rings felt gliding over my bottom lip.

As I watched her speed away in the taxi, I had a newfound excitement to quickly get through work that next day. Since the band met up for drinks after work pretty much every day, I figured it would be a nice icebreaker into a date. I wasn’t really the dating type, but if Miss Fallon Dunbar wanted to play all goody two-shoes, I figured I should play along.

I made my way back over to where Colt and Rodney were standing, trying to get the attention of a tall tattooed guy behind the bar. 

Colt leaned close to my ear. “Where’d the chick go? She was hot.” 

I smiled and shook my head, laughing. “She went home. Playing hard to get, I guess. She’s gonna hang out with us tomorrow.” 

Colt smiled mischievously and I knew the idea of Fae-Fallon—whatever I was supposed to think of her as—naked was crossing his mind, which pissed me off.

“Dude, I just made out with her!” I yelled loud enough for the entire club to hear if they wanted, but Colt and Rodney were the only ones who seemed to let the greatness register. 

Rodney punched my shoulder. “Fuck yeah, man.” Then he took a shot of vodka and wandered off with a tall blonde who was wearing enough makeup for an entire brothel.

Two giggling blonde girls walked up to Colt and me as the bartender finally took my order. I waved the girls in Colt’s direction and he slunk into the shadows with both clinging onto each of his arms.

“So, where’s your lady friend? Fae?” Maverick was standing next to me, a mixed drink wrapped in a white napkin in his hand.

He was more than a bandmate or even a friend. He was my brother, or at least the closest thing I had to family. He knew something was up with me, I could see it in his face.

“She hopped in a cab and headed home. Work early in the morning, ya know.”

He nodded. “Ain’t that a bitch?”

“I gotta tell you something, promise not to say anything?”

He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

I leaned in and loudly said, “She’s not just any chick. She’s fucking Fallon Dunbar!”

I let it sink in and watched as the words clicked. His eyes grew about ten times bigger as he punched my shoulder.

“Fuck, dude!”

“Yeah, tell me about it!” I chugged the rest of my beer, slamming the empty glass onto the bar top.

“All I can say is, don’t fuck that one up!”

I could always count on Mav to be Captain Obvious. I chuckled, “Yeah, man. No
shit!
Don’t tell the guys. Or anyone.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret—well, her secret—is safe with me.”

Chapter four

The Meeting

Dane

Usually after a gig, I pass the hell out right after a shower. Tonight, there was no way that was going to happen. I was consumed with replaying kissing Fallon over and over. It was a short kiss, no tongue, just simple, quick, and perfect. I felt like a freaking preteen girl giggling in a corner after having made out with her crush for the first time.

I finally fell asleep around four in the morning, and my alarm screamed at six thirty.

Ugh. Fuck, it’s early.

I desperately wanted to roll over and keep sleeping, but Fallon had called the entire staff in for a meeting and there was no fucking way I was going to be late for that. I shaved, brewed coffee, put on a button-down and tie, and headed out the door twenty minutes early.

With my oversized travel mug in hand, I walked into the office and an all-too familiar voice cooed behind me, “What’s the special occasion, hot stuff?”

Whitney was standing way too close for comfort. She was the only chick I’d ever brought home from work.
Huge mistake.
She had a banging body: tight ass, long, blonde hair, a huge mouth she knew how to work well. But, she was a leech. All she did was gossip and talk shit. Not my scene. I’d only kept her around for a little while because she’d been a no-strings-attached fuck. Now she wanted strings, and I wanted nothing to do with her.

“Trying to act the part, I guess.” I dismissed her and continued to walk toward the conference room.

There was no way my dick was going to go near her again, not after having kissed Fallon. One kiss, that’s all it had taken. Those few seconds with her had been worth more than all the hours I’d spent with that shallow slut.

I could feel my heart skip when I heard Fallon’s sweet voice coming from around the corner. Then I quickly kicked myself for how sappy I had become in the last twenty-four hours.

Dude, get a grip. She’s just a chick.

Sitting back in my chair in the meeting room, I smiled as all my fellow writers slowly trickled in, tired, coffee in hand. I could see the confusion and frustration on their faces. Every once in a while, we had a meeting, but never at eight in the morning. Most of us were musicians or insane music fanatics, keeping vampire-like schedules and hating the term ‘morning’. It was part of the reason why the online chronicle idea was an awesome job choice—the hours were appealing.

Ever since Fallon Dunbar had become our assistant editor, structure had been creeping in, denying our resistance with a devil's laugh. Payton had called the meeting knowing full well how unpopular it was going to be with the staff, but he was trying to make big changes in the chronicle and Fallon was right smack dab in the center of it all. And I was enamored. 

Fallon was hot in every way possible. She was strong, an amazingly talented writer, and covered in the hottest tattoos I had ever seen on a chick. The best part was how much she was a mystery to me. She was one of the most talented underground drummers I have ever heard of; she was supposed to be dead, but here she was, showing up in my life like an archangel, her wings still a little singed from the wreckage of her past. I figured no one else had put the connection together about our new editor's true identity, and I knew that's what Fallon wanted. 

Fallon beat most of the staff into the room. A lot of them were lingering in the hall or shuffling papers on their desks before the meeting was supposed to start. Even with her sleepy eyes, Fallon was stunning in her tight, black dress pants, her thick-framed glasses, and a flowing teal top, her hair thrown up. I couldn’t help but stare. 

She draped her suit jacket over the back of a chair before gliding over to me, half smiling as she glanced at her watch. "We have, like, fifteen minutes before we have to start." She pulled a chair close to mine and straddled it backwards. "How're you doing, Dane?"

Her lips were a succulent red that my body ached to taste again. I stuttered for words, but I kept them at a level whisper, playing off my lustful attraction as best as I could.

“I’ll be better once we have that date you made me promise to take you on.” I forced my lips to curl into a smile, trying not to blush, being careful to not let my eyes slide down to her perfect tits, which were playing peekaboo with her almost see-through top.

She ran her fingers through her hair, tucking a few stragglers into her messy bun and biting her lip into a half smile. “Well, then, we will just…” She trailed off as Payton strode into the room.

Fallon tossed a playful pout over at me without finishing her sentence. She slowly started to rise, probably noticing that the last two members of our writing staff had scrambled through the door. I looked at her, pretending to sulk a little, and then nodded, mouthing “We’ll talk later” at her with a wink.

I tried to pay attention while Fallon strolled through how well our fans were responding to our articles and how much more emotion we could bleed from our passion for the music we were writing about.  All of it was interesting, but nothing could pull my mind from cracking her mystery.  

Why is she so secretive? Why doesn’t she want anyone to know who she is, how talented she is?

Chapter five

romeo

Fallon

Fresh coffee
.

There was nothing better. The smell of warm hazelnut wafted up as I poured yet another cup into the bright pink mug Starr had made for me a few Christmases ago. Scrolled across it was my favorite of Hemingway’s famous quotes:
“
There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” And in the bottom of the mug, only visible once the coffee was gone, the words ‘Love ya, bitch!’ were printed in bold. It always made me smile when I thought about how excited she had been to give me the stupid thing.

Fuck, I miss her!

I glanced at my watch. It was only one in the afternoon, and I had probably already guzzled down an entire pot.

“Top me off?” Dane was standing next to me in the break area.

I filled up his mug. “Sure thing.”

His smile.

His eyes.

His fitted gray button-down and black silk tie.

Licking him from head to toe crossed my mind as I almost overflowed his cup.

His voice was low and gruff. “So, we still on for tonight?”

I need to get away from him before I jump him right here. 

Starting to walk away, I tossed over my shoulder, “Sure thing, Romeo.” I giggled a little to myself, remembering how fantastic his lips felt right as my boss’s big rosy cheeks came into my view.

“Ah, Fal—er, Fae. Right on time, I like that.” He smiled and gestured for me to take a seat as he closed his office door.

I crossed my legs nervously, wondering why my boss had texted me on my way back to work from lunch, asking me to drop in his office right when I got into the building.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” I failed miserably at hiding my nerves as my voice shook.

“Yes. I wanted to see how you’re adapting to the office and staff.” His voice was cheery as he glanced over the mountain of paperwork covering his desk. “Everything going smoothly, my dear? And cut that
sir
crap out.” Payton winked, leaning back into his dark brown leather chair as it moaned under his weight.

I relaxed into the plush armchair under me. “I love it here!” I blurted out.

With a warm chuckle, he slapped his desk. “Fantastic. Are we on schedule for today’s deadline? I want all articles posted promptly at seven p.m.”

“Yes. Everything will be ready and waiting by five for your review. All I will have to do is hit publish at seven once I get your go-ahead.”

“Wonderful. Then I best let you get to sifting through all those articles.”

I made my way to the closed office door, stopping just short of it. “Payton?”

“Yes,
Fae
?” He winced as my fake name hung in the air. I could tell that he, too, was having a hard time getting used to it.

I whispered, “Thank you.”

His brow creased questioningly as he waited for an explanation.

I looked down at my suit jacket’s sleeves, which were covering up most of my tattoos, only letting a little wisp of color escape on my left wrist. “For giving me this chance.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, Fallon. Even you.” His face spread into a warm, loving grin and I walked out of his office, the tiniest hint of a tear rolling down my cheek.

I wish I could believe that.

While editing a terrible article about the ‘new age revolution of music sweeping the nation’ that felt like it had been written by a third grader, a soft knock rapped on my open office door. Without looking away from my computer screen, which was riddled with purple and blue edits all over the open Word document, I called, “Yes?”

“Fae? I have a late submission for you.” Dane’s voice came whispering through the stale room like a breath of fresh air. I looked up to see him walking into my office with a piece of paper gripped in his hands. “Great. It’ll give me a break from this piece of you-know-what.” I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the page from Dane, shoving my fake glasses back onto my face. I hated them, but I felt like they made me look more the part of a literary assistant editor.

“It’s a shameless plug, but I think it’s worth its salt.”

He took a seat while I started reading “It Changes You” by Dane Pearson.

There is nothing better than the feeling of the music seeping into your pores. That one moment when it all makes sense and the world melts into nothingness. It engulfs you. It changes you. It becomes you. It saved me.

“This is really good, Dane.” I smiled up at him to see the spark of a shy grin start to take over his nervous face.

“Really?”

I nodded. “Email it to me? I’ll get it ready for the posting tonight.”

He practically jumped out of his seat. “You’ll have it in two seconds. Mountain Breath at eight?”

I smirked. “If Payton doesn’t keep me too late, I’ll be there.”

With a swift wink and a small, seductive smile topped off with a lower lip bite, he was out the door.

Damn, he’s too hot. I need to kiss those lips again.

I wanted to call him back into the office and throw him onto my desk. That would be way too inappropriate.
But so much fun.

“Looks like an HR violation,” I heard a mousy voice cackle from the hall as a giggle followed.

I was able to catch a glimpse of Whitney Quints as her blonde ponytail bobbed away from my office next to a short, skinny brunette I couldn’t remember the name of to save my life.