“Youwillhire more security, Kane,” Danger demands. “We need better protection. But importantly, Lunar needs a security detail,” Danger declares.
Furrowing my brow, I lift my head. “I don’t need awholesecurity det—”
“Yes, you fucking do! End of story.”
I simply nod. There is little I can say right now to calm Danger.
We will discuss it when he’s more rational.
The car radio is switched on, and a Recoil song is playing. I smile, looking up at Danger, and he finally turns his scowl into a slight smile. I nudge his side, and we all chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
It’s amazing how Recoil couldn’t get any airtime anywhere, and now, with the right team behind them, their songs are being played in Australia and Asia, and they’re huge.
“Let’s go back to the hotel and have the after-party there,” Matt offers.
“Agreed,” Danger replies.
The others dip their chins and say, “Fuck, yeah.”
I don’t want to go to a club the way I look right now anyway. Let alone the fact that I’m still shaking and unsettled from what happened.
We head back to the hotel, and I pull on Ryan’s jacket and zip it up before exiting the car—there’s no way I am walking aroundhalf-dressed because, let’s face it, the paparazzi will love it. We head upstairs to Matt’s room, and on the way, Danger grabs a first aid kit to tend to my face. The rest of the guys order booze and have takeout delivered to the room.
With nothing to do tomorrow, we’ll party it up tonight. And we’ve just had one hell of a weird night, so we deserve to let loose.
After Danger carefully cleans up my face in the bathroom, we head back out to the main bedroom, where the party is now in full swing. Finger food sits on the cabinet, and a cart of booze is stationary in the middle of the floor.
Matt’s cell is plugged into a portable speaker system, and the beats flow. It feels like our own private mini-club, and it’s far better than an actual after-party. It’s much cozier, with fewer weirdos and freaks to contend with.
I reach for a drink from the makeshift bar, and Danger stands beside me, munching on onion rings as we laugh at Ryan trying to impersonate Effa when she’s high. It’s near one in the morning, so we’re probably pushing the limits with the noise, but this is the best the band has gelled together since I arrived on the scene.
It’s nice for us to be spending some quality time together.
There’s a faint knocking in the distance, and I look at Ryan, who furrows his brows like he’s hearing it too. He quickly moves to the music dock and turns it down. When the volume reduces, the door banging is quite loud.
“Not it,” Danger, Matt, Nate, and I all say in unison.
Ryan slumps with a loud groan. “Fucking hell! Why do I drink? It makes me so fucking slow,” he grumbles while walking to the door.
I know we are all thinking the same thing—our awesome party is about to be shut down.
Ryan pulls open the door, and as suspected, a hotel staff member is standing there.
“Why hello! How may we help you this fine evening, good sir?” Ryan asks, aiming for a smooth delivery, but his slurring only makes him sound drunker than he is. I can’t help but giggle.
The man scowls but then notices the rest of us. I wave, and Danger grabs my hand and holds it as if to tell me not to bring any attention to the room. I stiffen and lean back into Danger, waiting for the guy to talk.
He clears his throat and sighs. “Due to your outstanding patronage, Recoil has officially been upgraded to the Penthouse suite. The suite has five separate bedrooms, and we’d like to move you in there now. You’ll have a butler service, a bar, and a food package available. The penthouse takes up the whole floor, so noise restrictionswon’tbe a problem.”
Ryan’s head swivels back toward us with deliberate slowness, his mouth forming a wide grin, and his eyes widen with excitement. “Penthouse suite, bitches!” he yells, and the room explodes into cheers and celebration. The hotel staff member hands Ryan a key card set and continues explaining what we need to do.
“C’mon, baby, let’s go pack our stuff,” Danger states.
Nate stands, walking with us. “This is fucking awesome! Only big bands get the penthouse, Danger. Are wereallythat big now?”
It’s the most civil I’ve seen them. A stark departure from the usual turmoil that simmers beneath the surface. This is a refreshing change—perhaps there is a glimmer of hope for their relationship.
Danger pats his shoulder. “Fucking yeah, we are.”
