Chapter Three Cromwell

Chapter Three

Cromwell

Easton was practically bouncing on the driver’s seat of his truck as we approached the Barn. It was only ten at night. I wasn’t used to hitting the decks until twelve at the earliest.

Easton was right. The place was bouncing, people spilling all over the grass outside the wooden building. Dance music pounded through the cracks in the wooden panels. I winced on hearing one awful mix slide into another tune.

Easton must have seen my expression. He pulled the truck to a stop and put his hand on my arm. “You’re our savior, Crom. You see what we’ve had to put up with? Bryce is protective of his decks. You’ve been warned.”

I lit up a cigarette and got out of the truck. All eyes had been on it from the minute Easton pulled up. It got even worse when I got out. I ignored the stares and hushed whispers and moved to the bed of the truck.

I pulled out my laptop bag, throwing it over my shoulder. My sleeveless T-shirt was sticking to my chest. The weather made me feel like I was living in a permanent sauna. The denim of my jeans clung to my legs. I followed Easton toward the barn. All the girls were checking me out. With two full sleeves and tattoos creeping up my neck, there were only ever two reactions to me. Girls either flooding their knickers as soon as they clapped eyes on my ink or complete revulsion. From the looks coming my way, it was mostly the former.

A brunette stepped in front of me, stopping me dead. Easton laughed beside me. She pushed on his arm, then said, “I’m Kacey. You’re Cromwell Dean.”

“Good observation,” I said.

She smiled. I ran my tongue over my lips and saw her eyes snap to my tongue ring. “I’m…um…” She blushed. “I’m looking forward to hearing your set.” She took a sip of her beer and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ve got some of your mixes on my jogging playlists, but I’ve heard it’s like nothing else to hear you live.”

I looked at Easton. “If you want me to save everyone from the ear-bleeding mixes that this Bryce is playing, we’d better go.”

“Catch you later, Kacey,” Easton said. I nodded at Kacey then moved around her toward the door. Easton nudged me. “She’s a good one.” He smiled wider. “Hot too, huh?”

I ducked my head, hiding my face when I noticed all the people staring. I hated attention. I knew it sounded stupid, the DJ hating attention. But I just wanted people to want my music, not me. I didn’t want their interest in me as a person. I just wanted to play.

Had to play for my sanity.

The rest was hard to deal with.

There wasn’t much to me anyway. I really wasn’t worth knowing.

Easton laughed at me shunning the attention and threw his arm around my neck. As loud as he was, he would never understand. The arsehole had no concept of personal space. But I couldn’t help but like him. I didn’t have friends. And I had a feeling he wouldn’t go away even if I asked him to.

“Shit, Crom. You feeling like an animal in a zoo or what? We don’t get many celebrities here in Jefferson.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” I replied as he led me toward the podium.

“In the electronic dance music world you are. And here at JYU you are.” He leaned over to another girl who was hanging by the stage. I swear, the guy was a chick magnet. He turned back to me. “What’s your poison?”

“Jack. Full bottle.”

“Nice,” Easton said, smiling in approval.

The girl went running off. I opened my bag and grabbed my headphones. Loosening my neck, I pulled out my laptop. Easton watched me like I was some living, breathing science experiment. I raised my eyebrow. “It’s like watching a genius at work or something,” he said.

Easton tapped the current DJ on the shoulder. Bryce. Bryce looked at me from the side of his eye then stormed off the podium. Easton laughed as the moody wanker pushed by me. I climbed the steps to the podium and set up my laptop. I plugged it in to the system, then let myself look up.

The place was jam-packed. Hundreds of eyes locked on me. I took a deep breath as the rising heat from the dancing bodies stuck to my skin as the vibrant colors that surrounded them assaulted my eyes.

A bottle of Jack appeared beside me. I took a long swig then slammed the bottle back to my right. Easton, to my left, flicked his chin at me. He was downing a bottle of tequila like it was water. I peered over my laptop at the bodies lined up and waiting.

I lived for this moment. The pause. The held breath before the chaos.

I tapped the keys. Lined up the tune. Then, with a flick of my hand, sent the crowd into euphoria. Easton bathed the barn in green laser lights. Strobes followed, making the dancing crowd look as though they were moving in slow motion. Drinking. Smoking. Some high off their tits.

Easton threw his head back in laughter. “This is insane! Cromwell Dean is in the Barn!”

The beat became the rhythm of my heart as it pounded against the barn’s walls. Easton wasn’t lying. Inside, this place was good. I took sip after sip of my Jack. Easton sucked on the tequila like it would run out if he didn’t get it all down quick.

I shrugged. It was his life, and his killer hangover that’d smack him square in the eyes tomorrow. I glanced at my Jack. Who was I kidding? I was planning on joining him.

Easton nudged my arm. He flicked his chin at the front of the podium. Kacey, the brunette girl from outside, was looking up at me. She smiled, and I nodded my head at her. As I scanned the crowd, I saw people laughing in groups, couples kissing, dancing. I never had any of that in my life. I had my music. That was it. My stomach caved in sudden sadness, catching me off guard. I immediately threw the feeling away.

I wouldn’t let it in.

Focusing back on my music, I threw in some beats to the mix, adding depth. Bass drums bouncing so hard they shook the building. Easton leaned over me to the mic. I never spoke. My music did the talking for me. Never even had anyone singing over my tunes. Just beats and the rhythm. “Is that what you call losing it?” Easton shouted, and the crowd screamed.

He jumped onto the table holding my decks. I shook my head, smirking at the walking ego that was Easton Farraday. “I said…” He paused, then screamed, “Is that what you call fucking losing it?”

I slammed them with a bass beat so hard and fast it controlled them, brought them to their knees. Bodies bumped and smashed into each other as they moved. As they jumped and drank and some practically shagged on the floor. And I was lost to it. Like always, up on this podium, I was gone. Taken from the darkness inside my head and thrust into this. This numb nirvana.

I closed my eyes to pull myself from Easton’s lights. My bones vibrated with the bass I was pushing. The sound sailed through my ears and injected itself straight into my veins. Bursts of reds and yellows danced behind my closed eyelids. I snapped my eyes open, only to see Easton stumbling around the podium. His arm was around a girl’s neck as she practically ate his mouth. He backed her away until they were on the dance floor and heading outside.

Hours passed in the blink of an eye. I played until I was done with my mixes. Bryce, the prick from before, was taking over before I’d even got off the podium. I took my Jack and snuck outside; the crowd were too off their faces to even notice the DJs had switched.

I’d completely ruined them.

I hit the outside air and found a quiet spot beside one of the barn’s walls. I slumped to the ground and closed my eyes. The sound of laughing made me open them again.

This place was nothing like uni back in London. Jefferson Young was tiny, and everyone knew each other. My uni in London was massive. It was easy to get lost in the crowd. I’d lived alone. No dorms. Just a studio flat near the campus. No friends.

It was a different world out here. And I knew that having barely seen any of it.

For the past few days I’d barely left my room, sleeping off my jet lag and mixing my tracks for tonight. Easton tried to get me to hang with him and his mates, but I didn’t. I wasn’t exactly a social person. I was better on my own.

I closed my eyes again, just as I felt a warm body sit beside me. It was Kacey, a Corona in her hand. “You wiped?”

“Knackered,” I said and heard her small laugh. Probably at my accent. Easton had been doing the same thing all week.

“You were amazing.” I looked over to her, and she dipped her head away. “You must feel a million miles away from home, huh? Jefferson’s not exactly London. Not that I’ve ever been, but…yeah.”

“Distance is good.”

She nodded like she understood. She didn’t.

“Your major is music?” She shook her head. “Obviously. It must be.” She cast her gaze over the people stumbling out of the barn. I’d leave too if I had to listen to that crap the other DJ was spewing out. “I’m majoring in English.”

I didn’t talk back to her; it just wasn’t me. Instead, I drank my Jack in silence as she drank her Corona. A few minutes later, Matt and Sara came over. Matt crouched next to Kacey and spoke to her in low, urgent tones. She sighed. “I need to call her?”

Matt nodded.

“Christ.” Kacey pulled out her phone and stood up.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Easton,” Matt answered. “He’s wasted. Refusing to move.” He pointed at Kacey. “She’s calling his sister. She’s the only one who can handle him in this state. Asshole gets violent as all hell when you try to cut him off. Likes to party, but can’t really handle the party, if you know what I mean.”

“Back off!” Easton’s drunken voice rang out across the field. People gave him a wide berth as he stumbled our way, still clutching his tequila bottle. It was empty. “Cromwell!” He stopped beside me and swung his arm around my neck. “That set!” he slurred. “Can’t believe you’re here, man. In Jefferson! Nothing ever happens here. It’s a boring shithole.”

He slumped down next to the barn. Matt tried to get him to his feet. “Fuck off!” Easton snapped. “Where’s Bonnie?”

“She’s coming.” Easton dropped his head but nodded to show he’d heard.

“He’s my ride,” I whispered to Matt.

“Shit. Our ride is full. Bonnie will take you home. She always takes East back to y’all’s room anyway. She’s nice. She won’t mind.”

“I’m going to get my things.” I ducked back into the barn and got my laptop. I pushed my hair from my face as I exited the barn. I scanned the grounds. I was hoping coming here would make me feel better. Would take this dark pit, the one forever trying to cave in my stomach, away. I’d played my music to a packed crowd. Spoke to people, but I could feel the sadness I’d pushed down low fighting to be freed anyway. Ready to consume me. To bury me in the past.

Coming here had made no difference at all.

I noticed a silver 4x4 parked across from me. The headlights blinded me as I approached. I winced. My hangover was well and truly setting in. Matt was helping Easton off the floor, some new girl in tight jeans and a white cardigan on Easton’s other side.

This must be the sister . I made my way over as Matt shut the car door. Easton lay sprawled, knocked the hell out, on the back seat.

“You’re okay to get him home?” Matt asked the girl, before he hugged her and let her go. Sara did the same.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Cromwell!” Matt ushered me over with a wave of his hand. The sister didn’t turn as I approached. Her back was rigid. “Over here. Bonnie’s taking Easton home.” He looked down at her. “You won’t mind taking Cromwell, will you? There’s no room left in our ride. East brought him here.”

I didn’t hear her reply. Instead, I moved to the boot of the car and put in my stuff. Matt waved at me as he walked away, taking Sara with him. Kacey put her hand on my arm. “Nice to meet you, Cromwell.” She walked away with everyone else, looking back over her shoulder one more time as she did.

Just as I was about to open the passenger-side door, Easton’s sister turned to face me. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

A hazy memory hitched a ride on the warm breeze and bitch-slapped me across the face.

“Your music has no soul…”

She sighed, clearly seeing my pissed-off reaction, then said, “Hello again.”

“You.” I laughed dryly at the way the bastard universe liked to work against me.

“Me,” she said, seemingly amused, and shrugged. I watched her as she walked to the driver’s side. Her dark brown hair was off her face, just like it had been in Brighton. She wore it in a ponytail, the tail hanging down her back until it stopped halfway down her spine.

She got in; then the passenger-side window rolled down. “You getting in or are you walking home?”

I rolled my tongue ring in my mouth, trying to unclench my fists. No way would I show her how much that one bastard line she’d said on a cold-ass summer morning in Brighton had got to me. I refused to let it affect me like that again.

Bonnie, as she was apparently called, revved the engine. I huffed a disbelieving laugh. I opened the back door. Easton was snoring. His arms and legs took up every bit of space.

Bonnie leaned back, looking at me through the seats. I avoided her eyes. “Looks like you’re gonna be up front with me, superstar.”

I gritted my teeth and took a long, deep breath. I searched for where I’d been sitting. The Jack was still there. I ran over to get it then slid into the passenger seat. I was going to need alcohol for this journey.

“Jack Daniels,” she said. “Seems like you and he are close friends.”

“The best,” I said and slumped in the seat.

The silence in the car was deafening. I reached over and switched on the radio. Some folk song was playing. No thanks. I flicked on the next song on her playlist. When Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony started, I decided to just turn the damn thing off.

“Your choice in music leaves a lot to be desired.” I took a long drink of my Jack. I didn’t know why I’d even opened my mouth. I was never the first to speak. But as her words from that night circled my head, I’d felt the anger rise up inside me and they’d just spilled out.

“Ah, that’s right. No classical. And now no folk. Good to know that good music offends you.” She took her attention off the road for a split second to look at me from the side of her eye. Her eyebrows pulled down. “You’re here for Lewis, right? Why else would you be in Jefferson?”

I took another drink, ignoring the question. I didn’t want to talk to her about music. I didn’t want to talk to her, full stop. I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and put it in my mouth. I went to light up, but she said, “No smoking in my car.” I lit up anyway and took a long drag. The car stopped so fast I almost lost my Jack to gravity. “I said, no smoking in my car,” she snapped. “Put it out or get out. There’s your two choices, Cromwell Dean.”

My body tensed. No one ever spoke to me like this. The fact that she’d pissed me off made it worse. I met her eyes and took a long, sweet suck on my cigarette then flicked it out of the window she’d opened for me. It was the first time I’d looked at her straight-on. She was all brown eyes and full lips. I held up my hands. “All gone, Bonnie Farraday.”

She pulled back out onto the road and suddenly we were at Main Street. Students were staggering home in twos and threes, walking back to the dorms from the Barn. I didn’t want to talk to her, but the silence in the car was even worse. My hands clenched on the thighs of my jeans. “Not your scene?” I asked tightly.

“I was busy tonight. Studying before classes start on Monday.” She pointed behind her to her snoring brother. “Or at least I was trying to, until my twin decided to get wasted, as always.”

My eyebrows lifted. She saw. “Yeah. Easton’s older by four minutes. Look nothing alike, do we? We are nothing alike. But he’s my best friend. So here I am. Bonnie’s taxi service.”

“Easton said you were both local.”

“Yeah, from Jefferson. As South Carolina as they come.” I felt her eyes on me. “Weird though, huh? That you’re here after our meeting in England?”

I shrugged. But it was. What were the chances of that?

Bonnie pulled the car into a space in front of the dorm. She looked back at her brother. “You’re gonna have to help me carry him up the stairs.” I got out of the car and moved to the back seat. I pulled Easton out and threw him over my shoulder. “My laptop,” I said, jerking my chin to the boot. Bonnie moved to the boot of the car and took out my stuff. I managed to carry Easton up the stairs and throw him down on his bed.

Bonnie was behind me. She was out of breath, huffing and puffing from the stairs.

“Maybe you should start some cardio. Stairs shouldn’t be that hard.” I was being a dick. I knew it. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. That night in Brighton she’d well and truly pissed me off. Apparently, I couldn’t let it go.

Ignoring me, Bonnie put my things on my desk. She took a glass off Easton’s bedside table then left the room. She came back with it full of water and placed it beside him. She left two tablets beside the water and kissed his head. “Call me tomorrow.”

I lay on my bed, my headphones around my neck, ready to zone out. Bonnie passed me and stopped. “Thank you for carrying him up.” She took one last glance at him. Her eyes seemed to soften for some reason. It made her look…prettier than normal. “Can you keep an eye on him, please?”

I pulled that thought out of my head. “He’s a big boy. I’m sure he can look after himself.”

Bonnie snapped her head to me. She appeared shocked, then her face frosted over. “I see you’re as charming as ever, Cromwell. Have a good night.”

Bonnie left. As she did, Easton stirred and cracked open an eye. “Bonnie?”

“She left,” I said, throwing off my shirt. I stripped down to my boxers and got into bed.

Easton had turned back over. “My sister. She tell you that?”

“She did.”

He was asleep in seconds.

I opened my music on my phone. And just like I did every night, I let the comfort of dance music fill my head. The colors were different with EDM. They weren’t the ones that made me remember everything.

And I thanked whoever the hell was up there, God or whatever, for that fact.