Chapter 1

Chapter One

Eddie

The roar of the crowd ripples across the stadium. It's our last stop on the home soil leg of our world tour, and while it feels like we've been gone forever, in reality, it's only been four years since we left Australia. Walking onto the stage, Mickki takes his spot behind the mic and, for entertainment purposes, I rip my shirt from my body and toss it into the crowd. The women love it.

Tonight, I'm not as wasted as usual. We have an important interview after tonight's show and our manager says I'd better behave myself or the bigwigs will have a problem.

Every night we end our show with a song I wrote called "Silence". The song brings back the awful memories from all those years ago. The band doesn't understand why we continue to play it since it hurts so damn bad. It sends me off on what Mickki calls a path of destruction until I pass the fuck out.

Why? Because I don't deserve to forget.

It's pain I must live every day of my life. It's something for which I don't deserve redemption. I can't change it, so I might as well fucking own it.

Mickki bellows out the part of the lyrics which hurt the most.

"SO, YOU HEAR THAT; it's you missing from my life.

When the world is so loud and full of noise, I'm afraid to put my brain on silence,

That's when I see your face and I miss your smile.

That silence changed my world, everything started and ended with you.

My world changed with you."

After our set, we have a short meet and greet with our most devoted fans. But as I peer around the room, I realise the only things half the women in this room are devoted to are our cocks. Raising my bottle of whiskey, I down a quarter of the contents in one go.

"WHO WANTS TO FUCK A ROCK STAR?" I yell while holding the bottle in the air, and three willing ladies put their hands up and giggle. Their cheap perfume disgusts me, but I need to get my dick wet, and my motto is: any hole's a goal.

Our manager makes his way over, and he looks pissed. Oh, this ought to be amusing.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you fucking stupid? I warned you important people would be here tonight. Go sober up before you need to be in the interview room," he mutters out between gritted teeth.

"Yes, Avery," I say, belching in his direction. What sort of name is Avery, anyway? If it were up to me, we would have fired the idiot a long time ago. "You can come with me," I say condescendingly to the leggy blonde. As we make our way to the conference room, I wonder if fucking her will help get the booze out of my system and sober me up.

The room is all set up, so this must be where the interview will take place. Guess it saves me from being late if I'm already here. I lounge back in one of the chairs, while blondie pops open a bottle of champers—at least she has the right idea—and takes a swig from the bottle before handing it to me. Following her lead, I down my share, then flop out my cock, and he is eager for her attention. I love watching their eyes grow wider when they see the monster I'm packing. My brother may have got the looks, but I got the cock.

"What are you waiting for, a fucking invitation? Get to work," I say, gesturing to my cock that's still half-mongrel.

She licks her lips, trying to be seductive, then drops to her knees. She wraps her lips around my head and hot damn, the girl knows her way around a cock. It usually takes the monster a few minutes to wake up, but she has him standing to attention in one. With a hand wrapped in her hair, I encourage her to bob up and down. My eyes roll back in my head and I'm sure as shit sobering up now.

"Oh, my God! I'm sorry, sir," a timid voice breaks in.

I look up and see a brunette with a hot nerdy vibe going on. "Don't be sorry, love. Feel free to join us, the more the merrier."

Her face goes bright red from embarrassment. Right at that moment, I groan and finish my load in blondie's mouth. With a pop, she lifts off and I'm sitting with my cock hanging out. Nerd girl is now staring at my crotch, her eyes slightly bugged out.

"Like what you see?" I say, winking at her.

Mickki and the boys walk into the room, and they're not surprised by my antics. I don't think I could shock them anymore.

"Put your dick away, idiot," Mickki says, slapping me on the back of my head as he walks past.

"Don't be jealous, brother," I say, doing up my zipper. "It's unfortunate we weren't both blessed."

"Fuck off, I'm happy with what's in my pants," he says, taking a seat. "Mr Fontaine will be here soon, so go find a shirt or something, would you?"

"Oh, you can go now," I say, dismissing blondie and ignoring my brother.

When everyone is seated, the nerdy girl introduces herself as Lacey from ACE TV. Fuck, they're only the biggest music show in the world and the best they can do is send her? She starts off with the usual questions—what inspired this album, what music influenced us growing up, blah blah blah. I zone out for a while as Mickki does most of the talking for our interviews, and the rest of us sit back and nod.

"Eddie," Mickki says, hitting my leg with his.

"Huh, what?" I ask. Looking towards Lacey, I watch as she swallows nervously when I meet her eye.

"Everyone at ACE loves your tattoo," she says, which irritates me. Obviously, no one told her my tattoo was off limits.

"Thanks, but I'm not talking about it."

The tattoo is a picture of the ocean, with a broken clock, a staircase, and a little girl's silhouette reaching out to touch the clock's hand—it's my tribute to Amelia. I was lucky the press never got wind of how close I was to her, and I managed to keep her funeral private. However, everyone wants to know about my tattoo, and they all want to be the first to print the story. The rest of the interview goes smoothly until she asks her last question.

"A source has informed us the song "Silence" is about someone named Amelia. Is there any truth in that?"

I see red. Pushing out of my chair, I force it backwards with such strength it crashes into the wall behind me as I rage. "Fuck this shit. Find out what arsehole leaked that. Make her fucking sign something, because if this gets out, I guarantee someone will pay."

Swiping the bottle of champagne, I storm out of the room. When I find the fucker who betrayed my trust, they're going to wish they were never born.

One of the roadies is good for scoring drugs, so I find him and throw a wad of cash his way as he asks what my poison is today. Honestly, I don't care so long as it fucks me up, quick.

As I slowly come to, my brain feels like it has liquid swishing around inside. I peer from one eye and see Mickki standing above me, then he pours a fucking cup of water over my face.

"What the fuck was that for?" I snarl.

"Fuck, bro, you need to get up. The papers, man—it's not good," Mickki says, before scoffing softly when he takes in the girl beside me. "Sleeping with the enemy, I see."

"Her? She's far from the enemy. Timid as a mouse. I rocked her world last night—oh, and hers," I say, pointing to the little Asian girl curled up on the floor where she's passed out cold.

I follow Mickki out to the dining room, where the rest of the band is sitting around the table. Benny, Drew, and Brodie are all top blokes. Though Mickki is my brother by blood, I also consider them my family.

"This is bad, man," Benny says. "Who is the mystery woman, Amelia, who screwed up the famous Eddie Diamond?"

"Drug binge over mystery girl," Drew says.

"Rocker Eddie Diamond flips out," Brodie says.

"Every paper in Australia today has you as the headlines," Mickki says.

"Not every paper," comes a quiet voice from behind me. "My boss has been blowing up my phone all morning, and I'm going to get fired for sure because I'm the one who was supposed to have THE headline," she trails off, almost in tears.

"Sorry, love, but am I supposed to care? Because I don't." Maybe that was harsh, considering she saw me flip out and was with me on my so-called drug binge last night. Her phone rings, and she excuses herself and goes back to the bedroom.

There's a knock on the door, and everyone turns to look at me, like I'm supposed to be a fucking mind reader and know who it is.

"Okay, I'll get it," I say. I'm still stark naked, but I'm sure it will make someone's day.

Standing at the door is a guy, maybe in his late twenties, though he could be older—what the fuck do I know with all this metrosexual manscaping bullshit men do these days? He's quite attractive, so it must pay off, and he may make me question my sexuality after a few drinks and the right drugs.

"What do you want?" I say after the guy gives me a once over.

"You could help me by moving aside and going to put some clothes on. Because you, my friend, have some serious damage control to do this morning," he says, walking past me like he owns the joint.

"I'm not your fucking friend," I sneer, but he ignores me and turns his attention towards Mickki.

"Oliver, nice to see you again," Mickki says, greeting him. Argh, Mr Fontaine sent his spoilt son. I remember him now—we've met once before at a concert.

"Don't we have people who clean this sort of shit up?" I say, closing the door.

"Normally, yes, but today my father thinks it's best that I handle this, and quickly. I've been informed the subject of Amelia has been off limits, and I get it, but the press are vultures and it's only a matter of hours before they figure it all out. They'll dig up everything on the girl and her mother."

"Like fuck they will! I'll personally hunt them all down," I snap.

"And then what, Eddie? Maybe it's time to consider going public with the information and doing an exclusive interview live on air."

"NO! I can't break another promise!" I shout. "I promised Sasha I wouldn't drag Amelia's death through the press."

"Come on, brother, don't you want the important things about Amelia told instead of Sasha's past? Because they will find out everything."

"First, I need to see Sasha and explain, as I won't do it without her knowing. Only I just don't think she'll see me."

"Leave that to me. She's kept in touch with me over the last few years," Mickki says quietly.

"You what?" I say, pushing him against the wall, my arm across his neck. "Why, after everything I went through, would you still talk to her without telling me? You never even liked her, so why?"

Brodie and Benny pull me off him, and he rubs his neck as he gasps for air.

"Fuck you. She kept in contact with me to see how you were. I never said I didn't like her. I just didn't think the situation was good for you and this is exactly why. You were fucked in the head before you met them and now you have lost the plot."

"All this time, I thought she didn't care. I have an idea—if they want my story, then we do it my way, and you," I say, pointing at Lacey, "do you want that exclusive? Maybe your boss will forgive you after all this." I run my idea by her, and she agrees that doing a special web cast would work, but her boss doesn't normally let her do those broadcasts. I tell her my people will set it up and only she will be given the interview.

"You've seen my cock, so tell him I feel comfortable around you or something."

"Half the world has seen your cock," she whispers.

"That's true. Give me your boss's number and your address. We'll be leaving in two hours. Can you be ready by then?"

After jotting down the number and address, she scurries from the room. I decide dressing is possibly for the best, since I don't need to add charges for indecent exposure to the list of fuck ups for the week. All my shit is already packed, so I do the last few lines of coke before walking back out. I hear Mickki on the phone, and Oliver is still here, talking with the rest of the guys.

"You're a good-looking man, Oliver. It almost makes me wanna swap teams and screw your brains out."

"Thanks, I think, but I'm not gay," Oliver says, looking a little offended.

"I have a plan. Since we're leaving today anyway, we'll take the nerdy chick with us. You can set up a live interview for tonight," I tell him.

"Good news. Sasha will meet up with you, but she wasn't happy about it. It took some serious pleading. She'll meet you at Amelia's grave," Mickki says as he comes back into the room.

"Let's do this," I say, putting on my best I don't give a shit face, but inside I'm terrified.

I've not seen Sasha in five years, nor have I been back to visit Amelia's grave. I could give a million reasons I haven't returned, but the truth is I'm too chickenshit—it holds way too many memories. Sasha told me the day of Amelia's death, she never wanted to see me again and she would never forgive me. How do I face her after I let her down in the worst way possible? I made a promise I didn't keep, all because I'm a selfish bastard. Now I have a hole deep in my chest, and pain which haunts me.