When she sang her voice was clear, her accent slipping through and making the lyrics sound more honest. She had the attention of every person in the room, and I noticed that Trevor was uncharacteristically silent. I thought I heard him mutter something under his breath, but I didn’t quite catch what he said.

All too soon her set was over, and the crowd roared their applause. She gave a little bow and walked off the stage, disappearing behind a red velvet curtain. I knocked back the end of what was my third martini, or was it my fourth? Anyway, I finished it and nudged Trevor with my elbow.

“I’m going backstage to see Reya. You coming?”

He nodded and followed me. A minute or two later, we found her packing up her stuff up into a small duffle bag. Sometimes she brought her keyboard to gigs, but since the venue had its own piano, she’d played that instead. It meant she didn’t have a whole bunch of equipment to carry home. Rising, she hitched the bag up on her shoulder before she saw us. I hurried forward, pulling her into a hug and telling her how great the show was. She held her hand up to me, displaying a bandage on her middle finger.

“I almost had to cancel. Cut myself trying to get the crappy window in my bedroom open. It’s killing me now, but at least I got to play.”

“Well, you’d never notice.”

“Bit of WD40 should do the trick,” Trevor put in randomly, and Reya’s eyes wandered to him. She seemed perplexed as to why he was there, but she didn’t question it.

“Pardon?”

“For the window,” Trevor explained. “If it keeps sticking.”

“Oh, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, an awkward silence elapsing.

Trevor stood with his hands clasped behind his back, studying her. “Why don’t you open your eyes when you sing?” he blurted, something like disappointment in his voice.

“I….” Reya began. “I don’t know,” she lied before turning back to me and changing the subject. “Did you see how many people were here tonight? Crazy talk. It’s a relief I’ll be able to pay this month’s rent now.”

“I know,” I exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you.”

Reya beamed before a guy approaching us caught her attention. “Speaking of which. That’s the club manager. I’d better go and collect my pay.”

I motioned for her to go and a minute later she was back, frowning as she slotted an envelope into her bag.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked in concern.

She shrugged, not meeting my eyes, and I knew she was upset about something. “The bastard low-balled me. When I booked this gig, they said I’d get to keep forty percent of the ticket sales, and now he’s claiming we agreed on twenty. Since I never signed any official contract, there’s nothing I can do. God, I’m such an idiot sometimes.”

“Are you serious?” I said angrily. “He can’t do that. I’m going to have a word.”

Reya grabbed my hand. “No, don’t. If I kick up a fuss, they won’t let me play here again, and I need the money.” We shared a moment of eye contact, and a second went by before we simultaneously realised that Trevor wasn’t standing next to us anymore. Scanning the room, I found he’d approached the club manager, and appeared to be having a serious talk with him.

“Oh, my God, what’s he doing?” Reya hissed, her grip on my hand tightening.

“I don’t know,” I said, pulling out of her grasp before she left a permanent mark.

The club manager gestured wildly with his hands while Trevor spoke over him, his stance confident. The manager frowned and rubbed his chin. Trevor said something else, and then the manager seemed to motion for him to calm down. A moment later he pulled some money from his pocket, counted out the notes and shoved them into Trevor’s hand. Lee’s brother turned and sauntered back to us, holding the money out to Reya.

“There ya go,” he said.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“The twenty percent he owed you.”

“How did you….” she began, but Trevor cut her off.

“Nobody puts baby in the corner,” he said, as though that explained everything. Reya stared at him, flustered, clearly no idea what to say.

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” I told him.

“Course it does. Now come on, I believe you two lovely ladies owe me a drink.”

Yep, definitely the eccentric one, I thought to myself as we let him lead us back to the bar.

***

I woke up the next morning with the mother and father of a hangover. I’d stayed out longer than I planned to, letting Trevor convince me into going to nightclub after nightclub. The three of us drank and danced, and then drank some more. I literally lost count of how much alcohol I’d consumed, and that never happened. Every time Trevor looked at his phone, I got a little tingle down my spine, knowing he was texting Lee. It was disconcerting that just being around someone who had contact with him got me excited.

Though honestly? There was very little about my relationship with Lee that wasn’t disconcerting. Or, well, my non-relationship, as seemed to be the case now.

Alexis gave me a smug grin as I trudged my way to the bathroom. She sat by the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cereal, and looking pleased with herself now that she wasn’t the only one who wanted to vomit their guts up first thing in the morning. Though at least she had a valid reason.

Instead of taking a shower, I ran a bath, pouring in extra bubbles before sinking into the soothing water. The honey and almond scent made me feel a little less like death warmed over. When I finally got out and dressed myself, I decided the first order of call was to go shopping for hangover food. It was after one o’clock when I left the flat to walk to the nearest shop.

Unlike last night, this time I spotted Trevor before he spotted me. He was hanging from the same metal bar, half his body suspended in mid-air.

“How’s the head, Constable?” he called when he finally saw me.

“Thumping. Why are you here?”

“I’m on guard duty again. No rest for the wicked.”

“Well, I’m just going to the shop. Then I plan on spending the rest of the day in bed, so you can head home,” I said, continuing on my way as Trevor dropped to the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking alongside me.

“Lee wanted me to invite you over to ours. When I told him about our escapades last night, he said you must be hung over as fuck, and in need of a good feeding. He’s cooking a roast.”

“I’m not going to your house,” I said, my statement final.

“Why not? It’s free food, plus you’ll get to swoon over my brother and be all, Oh, Lee, take me upstairs and handcuff me to your bedpost. I want you to take me prisoner this time,” Trevor teased, pitching his voice higher. I smacked him on the arm and told him to shut up.

“I do not sound like that,” I huffed, and he chuckled.

“I know you don’t, you’ve got a bit of a husky rasp going on. Very sex-ay. But seriously, you’ve got to come. Lee said he wants to update you on everything that’s been happening. I mean, he’ll probably end up crying tears of sorrow into the gravy pot if you don’t show.”

I gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You’re really weird, do you know that?”

“Oh, give it up, we both know you’re charmed.”

“I’m far from charmed.”

“Then why have we already walked by the shop, huh? You’ve decided to come over and you don’t even realise it yet.”

“Why can’t Lee just call me on the phone and ‘update me’?”

“Maybe because that’s the unsexy option. Or maybe because the phone lines are being tapped.” He widened his eyes in mock terror.

I frowned, knowing I was never going to win with him. “But won’t it be a bit awkward? Liam’s got to hate me, and Stu’s never exactly been my biggest fan.”

“Lee’s already had a word with them. They’ll be on their best behaviour.”

I eyed him for a minute, unsure whether he was telling the truth. Unfortunately, I couldn’t deny that I really wanted to find out what was going on. Maybe my hung-over brain wasn’t functioning properly, because after a minute I finally gave in and told Trevor I’d go with him.