Rocked Under (2 page)

"Do I look okay?" Usually, I didn’t need to ask. I wasn't an unconfident person, I just wanted to make a good first impression.

She looked down and then spent a long time scrutinising my black skinny jeans that were tucked into black, flat, leather, calf-length boots. She looked slowly up all five-foot-four of me, past my hip-hugging, red, fine-knit jumper and to where it slouched slightly off my shoulders. She then ran her eyes over my face, “You look great, as always.” She shook her head smiling.
 

I grinned at the way she had checked me out, she knew a quick look at me wouldn’t have me believing her if she said I looked good. I managed to sneak a peek at my reflection in a parked car window just to double-check anyway. My almost black wavy hair hung down just past my breasts. I looked okay, I guessed. I wished I had straightened it. Unfortunately, I got most of my features from my dad. My olive complexion, dark hair, curvy figure and rather over-large nose were all visible trademarks of my dad’s Italian heritage. But my dark blue, almond-shaped eyes were my mums and they were definitely my favourite feature.

Loud music and body heat enveloped us as we walked through double black doors into a huge, square open space that was brimming with people. There was a large raised stage in front of us at the far end with a band playing a heavy rock song which I didn’t recoeyegnise. A large bar lined the wall to the left of us and was already packed with people waiting to be served. The bartenders looked rushed off their feet, just like any nightclub. Tables and couches were dotted around the outskirts of the floor. The floor itself was a big space, which was crammed by the stage with college students dancing and waving their arms in the air trying to get the bands attention.

"It's always busy on the nights Scott’s here.” Ash said as she craned her neck and looked for her friends. "They’re over there, come on."

“Is that Scott?” I pointed to the stage. If it was then I didn't like his music.

Ash wrinkled her nose, “No, he’s on later.” She looked at me and lifted her shoulders as she smiled excitedly.
 

She took my hand and hauled me through the moving, sweaty bodies to a table that was to the left of the stage where a guy and a girl sat talking animatedly.

"Hey, hey!" Ashley sang-shouted. Two heads swivelled toward us.

"Ash!" The girl jumped up and almost ran around the table. She was around my height with a rounded figure and short, fine, light blonde hair.

"Meg!” Ash was squeezed in a death grip.
 

I noticed that the guys eyes were on me curiously. I smiled at him shyly and looked down at my feet until Ash introduced us.

"I want you both to meet Emma, my cousin." Ash said proudly.

The guy with short light brown hair stood "Hey, dweeb, I’m Newton.” I laughed awkwardly.
Dweeb? Really?
 

I glanced at Ash with a frown and she came close to my ear, “He’s playful. Just go with it.”
 

His hand shot out to mine. I took it and said hello whilst looking into his friendly eyes.
 

“Good to meet you. British, huh?" he winked at me then, his warm brown eyes twinkling.
 

I nodded, I’d have to think of some nerdy, dumb thing to call him in return.

"I'm Megan. It's so good to meet you. Ashley has told us all about her beautiful British cousin." Her voice bubbled out of her and filled my ears.

I forced a laugh, a knot of alarm flaring in the pit of my stomach, "I hope not too much." Because really, they didn’t need to know too much.

"Aw, don't worry, it was all good." Megan said as if reading my mind. She grinned at me and looked at Ashley.
 

Phew!
My stomach went back to its normal state.

"You're gonna have to keep an eye on this babe." Megan said to Ashley as they shared a knowing look.

I frowned. Why would they need to keep an eye on me? I wondered what Ash hadn’t told me for a second. I made a mental note to grill her about it later.
 

"I'll keep an eye on her for you, Ash. Don't worry; she'll be

I felt relieved that introductions were over with. It’s always horrible being the newbie, especially within a group of friends that have been hanging out for years already without you. I felt like a bit of an intruder. Ash and I sat opposite the others and we slipped into an easy conversation. They were asking me to say stuff like tomato. My accent was the highlight, which I didn't mind at the moment because I knew they would get over it eventually.
 

A few drinks later and I was feeling relaxed, the alcohol dulled my initial nervousness and left a feeling of excitement which I missed. This new start would be good for me; my future was looking bright for once. I watched, envious, as everyone danced, moving their bodies and shaking it all out.

"So,
Dweeb
, you wanna dance?" Newton stood over me.

“Yes, please,
Buttfluff
,” I got up while Newton threw back his head and laughed.

“Buttfluff.” He tested the word in his mouth like he was tasting wine, “I like it. Lets go!” He caught my hand and dragged me out to the middle of the floor, through the squash, and then turned to me.
 

Dancing was my favourite thing in the world, I could let go on the dance floor like nowhere else. I began moving but felt like a robot at first, after not having danced for so long, but after a while I eased myself into it like I hadn’t had a nine-month break from nightclubs.

Newton placed his hands on my waist and leaned close, “You like living here?"
 

"Yeah,” I nodded, “it's not too different from home.” I was smiling my head off as the beat caught me and thumped through my body. I closed my eyes, raised my arms, swung my hips and just enjoyed it. Newton removed his hands to do the same.

After a while I felt hands on my waist again and a mouth half shouted, half whispered in my ear, "You know you're ugly as hell, right,
Dweeb?
” he pulled back to look at me with a cocky grin on his face.
 

I laughed whilst shaking my head but I let him keep his hands on my waist. I liked this guy, he was funny with a warm and relaxing presence that rubbed off on me.

“Just sayin’,” he shrugged. “We’ll have our work cut out for us keeping Scott away from you.”

“Why?”
 

“Didn't Ash tell you about our famous friend?”

“Yeah, but I think you’re both probably exaggerating a bit. He can’t be that bad!”
 

“He’s not bad, just loves the ladies and, unfortunately, they like him a lot too.” He wiggled his eyebrows. "He's got a different girl every night — puts Casanova to shame."

“Well, don’t worry, I can look after myself when it comes to guys.” He didn’t look so sure but he had only just met me so that was okay. He would see soon enough. The guys at home had no chance and neither would they re would here unless I wanted them to.

I made my way to the bar a little while later to get the next round of drinks when the lights went off around the stage. The crowd cheered and whistled and heaved towards the stage in a mad rush to be at the front. My interest snared, I watched and waited to see who was playing next.

A single blue light lit the stage, its beam shining down and outwards towards the crowd. A man's silhouetted figure stood in its path. He stood there motionless, like a black phantom, while he looked out at the audience and the pack of screaming girls at his feet. My heart raced as the excitement that hummed through the atmosphere got under my skin, infecting me.

The drummer started a slow beat and Mr Silhouette started to sing deeply. My breath released slowly as his low voice penetrated and vibrated intimately through the floor to my feet and up my body making me shudder, leaving me feeling as though I had been violated in the most sacred of places.
 

His voice was deep, hoarse. I couldn't wait to see all of him, I
needed
to see his face, because surely someone with that kind of presence and his kind of voice couldn't also be blessed with a face to match? I didn’t have to wait long. The rest of the lights came on when the guitarist came in and the girls at the front of the stage screamed even louder. I froze as I studied his form, greedily committing every detail about him to memory. Everything else faded into the background, my vision went dark around the edges until he was all I saw. I let my gaze take a leisurely stroll up his body starting with his long jean-clad legs up to his lean hips. Unashamedly, my eyes roved over his chest, the way his black tee hugged his just-right muscles. His tattooed arms moved up and I watched in fascination as his biceps tensed when he gripped the microphone tightly and then flexed his fingers slowly.

My breath was coming in and out quickly as I bit my lip and continued to stare at what was Gods gift to women. Lastly, I looked at his face, I was blown away again at the beauty of him. Dark, silky, overgrown hair, which was a sexy mess, hung over his right eye until he swept it back. He had high cheeks and full lips, which were almost making out with the mic. He was outstanding. I had never seen anyone like him, yet, he seemed familiar in a strange way. I wanted to get closer, see the colour of his eyes, see if he had dimples when he smiled.

I sat there with my elbow on the bar, my chin rested on my fist holding my mouth closed while I was mesmerised by him, by his presence; it filled and covered the room like a sensual black silken sheet. He looked to the left of the audience with a smile that lit his eyes and he waved. I followed his gaze and saw Ash and her friends waving back. My chin fell off my fist. That was Scott Mason?

My wide, surprised eyes looked back to the stage and collided into a dark, intense stare that was studying me intently. My breath hitched, or maybe I just stopped breathing totally, while his intense, curious gaze trapped mine. I couldn't tear my eyes away, it was as though he was singing to
me
. My bottom lip said goodbye to my upper one as I struggled to get air in. Our eym. r in. Oes held for what seemed like endless minutes. I felt caught. Rabbits and headlights stupidly flitted in and then out of my addled brain.
 

Feeling hot all of a sudden, I knew I was blushing and groaned aloud as I rolled my eyes at myself, then I openly cringed at actually groaning out loud and rolling my eyes at myself. 
God, Girlie! Get a damn grip!
His eyebrows drew together very faintly then as he cocked his head to the side to study me whilst keeping the ballad going beautifully. I looked away, my face felt warm. He must have thought I was nuts, sitting here pulling faces at myself. I told myself that he was probably used to girls making utter idiots out of themselves over him.
 

I couldn't believe that I had just ogled a guy like that. I never did that kind of thing openly.
Ever
. I grabbed the tray of drinks that had been sat in front of me and returned to our table. He had to be seriously lacking in the personality department, I decided as I set the drinks down rougher than I usually would have.
No
guy had
ever
made me feel that way, or act that way either. I mean, I just didn't do the whole “eye-stripping” thing that other girls seemed to think was okay.

I sat down and Ash leaned in close to my ear, "That's From Under. Scott is the singer," she nodded towards the stage and pulled back to look at me for a second to see my reaction.
 

I forced a natural smile. "I figured it was."

She whispered in my ear again, “You'll meet him later.”

I pursed my lips and nodded. Meeting Scott didn’t sound so good now. I may as well just join the groupies down at the front.
 

I caught Newton’s eye, “Dance?” I mouthed nodding to the dance floor. Alcohol had definitely made me braver, I needed more.

“With you? Do I
have
to?” He flashed a smile as he stood and we were off like we’d known each other for years, not just a few hours.
 

Scott’s voice filled the bar as we danced on the outskirts of the floor. I watched him on stage and had to grudgingly admit that they weren't just good, but they were amazing to watch and listen to. They were one of the best bands I had seen live and that was saying something since I had seen so many gigs after years of Glastonbury Festivals and gigs in London. I reluctantly decided that Scott Mason made them; without him the rest of the band would be lost. He was breathtaking on stage.
 

Their style was a blend of heavy rock and soft ballads. Scott's voice was haunting, deep and raspy all at the same time for the ballads, which made shivers run down my spine, and he could shout his way through the heavier songs very well too whilst strumming wildly on his guitar. I knew, I just
knew,
that From Under were going places. I turned away. The way Ash described Scott, he sounded like a big-headed idiot and why wouldn't he be? He had everything going for him.
 

After an hour or so of pure rocking I danced my way over to where Newton br/here Newas dancing with a girl. He turned away from the girl when he saw me approaching.

“You okay,
Dweeb
?” He asked.

I was about to nod when Scott started talking.