Blazed (27 page)

It was too early to call him, not that there was a good way to bring up the subject even if I omitted that Hunter had called. With Mrs Reynolds out of the shop, I spun around to the computer and pounded 'Blaze' into a search engine, hoping to score lucky on his Wikipedia page. The snippets I found were like staring at a meteor shower.

Blaze (born February 14th 1983) is a British singer, song writer, model and actor, also lending his voice to a multitude of video games, animated films and short cartoons recorded in three of the five languages he speaks...

... Born in Cardiff, Wales, Blaze lived alone with mother, Constance, after his father's murder (name withheld) in 1987... He took an early interest in music and was an accomplished classically trained musician of six instruments by thirteen...

... Studious Blaze won his place in the University of Cambridge at just fifteen years old, choosing to decline to study locally near his mother... and amazed scholars by finishing his Ph.D. in Physics and Astronomy at age twenty-two... 

... Blaze co-founded UK rock act Monday's Miracle midway through college, utilising his charm and good looks to snag gigs at high end venues and the consideration of numerous record labels. The band were picked up by Counterpart Records in 2006. Shortly after, Blaze relinquished frontman responsibilities to Chase Garret, choosing to step back to become full-time carer for an unknown disabled family member...

... His good looks and natural prowess attracted the likes of modelling and advertising agencies who hired him for a number of campaigns. Blaze has since been repeatedly requested to appear in a number of film productions, television series and designer photo campaigns but has rejected many offers, still dedicating the bulk of his time to caring... Making exceptions only for a two day video shoot with UK rock princess Amelia Marsh of The Bystander Effect as a favour to Amelia's now husband, Caspian Pearce...

... Blaze supports a number of charities specifically advocating the awareness of neurological disorders and mental health. He has mentioned in passing difficulties with body image and diet after his early break into the modelling industry but has chosen to never elaborate...

... Nothing is known of his romantic history. Blaze has fended off the advances of many A-list actresses and singers, openly admitting to being celibate until meeting young artist Emmeline White in June 2012. The couple denied any romantic involvement at first, their relationship confirmed in an interview with Monday's Miracle guitarist Scott Henlow, who speculated on the permanence of their arrangement... 

"Holy shit." He wasn't just a pretty face, he was a smart cookie with some serious skeletons in his closet and now I was publicly recorded as one of them. Of course, I'd known nothing about the man until it had been shoved at me, but who else knew that he'd battled his own confidence issues?

As much time as I'd spent with the man, I really didn't know Blaze at all. If I thought about it, I knew his age, basic career background and where he was born. I knew his name, but I didn't know why it was really such a big secret. Withheld for legal reasons— why? And how the hell had he never given away that he was some kind of child genius? 

I needed to talk about this with someone, someone who'd stop me analysing the hell out of it or offer some kind of snide comment and snap judgement. Someone who wouldn't try and placate me with a movie quote. Someone who'd understand why it bugged me...

"Daniel Vine."
 Just his voice made me feel better. Even though we were friends before, Daniel and I forged our affinity around the time we both showed signs of being mixed up kids. He started realising that when I was looking at boys, he was looking too. I thought that was actually pretty cool of him. He was also the only guy who ever told me I looked particularly good in any given outfit or shade of lipstick. When the pieces began to slot into place, I let him feel me up to 'test' if he was gay. That didn't work because he still loved my tits. People thought we were 'together' for a long time and in a way, we always were. We were inseparable physically, always walking with our arms linked or holding hands. We were each others grounding forces until Hunter came along and fucked me up good and proper.

"How lame is it that I'm still laughing over your initials? D.I. Vine, how droll!"

"It's pretty lame, princess." I smiled, loving the way he still addressed me with the endearment he'd used when he was eleven. "What can I do for you?"

"Have you ever checked out my 'walking wank bank' boyfriend's Wiki page?"

"No, hang on." I waited patiently through the clatter of keys at his computer and the low mutter as he read aloud. "Bloody hell. Hungry Dr. Unknown on a sex strike dating the mysterious sexy artiste." 

"I'm glad you picked up on the five things I did. What do you make of it?"

Daniel hummed in contemplation, sighing with it. The leather of the high-backed swivel chair I knew he sat in creaked and I could tell it was because he'd sat forward to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, the way he always did when deep in thought. "I think there's not nearly enough information on this page. Do you think he was a virgin when you met?"

"Not from the way he rammed it in me."

"Hah! He's in Birmingham today, right? I'll shuffle my workload— pick you up from the shop. We'll thrash this out over sushi." Sushi was his answer to everything— his idea of comfort food. When the world needed to be put to rights, it was best done with the fortifying fire of wasabi and the comfort of tempura. Needless to say he'd sent back his RSVP to Hunter's wedding the minute the invitation arrived. 

"How do you know he's in
Birmingham?"

"Ah. Uh... Ohh, look, something shiny!"
 

That diversionary tactic should not have worked half as well as it did.

"OH CHRIST!" I coughed through the scorching tang of wasabi I'd been promised didn't exist in my pork wonton. Jonathan chuckled mischievously as I snatched the glass of water from his hand and gulped it down, eyes wide and watering. He'd joined us after work and looked as dapper as his partner in a deep purple suit that really shouldn't have looked as good as it did. Daniel had taken advantage of 'casual Friday' in his office and worn a simple white t-shirt with a pair of low fitting blue jeans, and while the couple couldn't have looked much further apart visually, it was clear to everyone that they were the most kindred spirits in the sushi bar. 

'Thrashing it out' with Daniel hadn't been as productive as I'd hoped, and I was yet to discover how he knew about Blaze's plans. As far as the Wikipedia page went, I really didn't know what I was hoping for. He couldn't enlighten me further, I knew that much, neither could he explain the secrecy.

"I think," Jonathan mused, "you're putting too much value on his past. God knows yours is pretty colourful and he's not letting it cause a rift."

"As far as we know," I shot back, "he knows I'll be in full swing when I'm letting him stay over properly and he wigged out completely when I told him that he could tonight." Failing to hide my irritation over it, my hand dove into my pocket to recover my phone, and then tossed it down onto the table when I found no response to my message. "And no reply. I have bets on him dropping by the flat when he gets back into
London to leave me a big fat Dear Jane letter."

"Bloody hell." Daniel rolled his eyes at me, turning my phone around to look at the message I'd sent in the afternoon. "Well there's your problem. It's still in your outbox."

"What?" I squeaked loud enough to turn heads, promptly sinking down in my chair to hide out of view. I could have kicked myself for not thinking to check my outbox myself and had consequentially been beating myself up over it all day. 

"It's not like you to get quite so het up, Emmy, and that 'walking wank bank' comment earlier was such a Hunterism. He's called, hasn't he?" Begrudgingly, I explained how he'd call the shop with his usual insults and made the offer to come over for Christmas. That and the shitty comment that I wasn't good enough for Blaze. "Damn it. It didn't even occur to me that he'd seek out the shop's number. I thought the call barring would be enough."

"
You
 set that up?" I was sure my eyes were boggling at Daniel. It wasn't his style to take assertive front-line action, he preferred to be a background adviser— a tactician or strategist. I was seriously honoured that he'd taken that kind of stand for me.

"Well sure, Emmy. At some point you have to swallow the bitter truth and accept that your friends are arseholes. Not all of you, obviously, but he's really doing more damage than good. Tell me your heart didn't leap into your mouth when you heard his voice."

"It petrified and hit my feet."

"Good, good." He nodded but traded a glance with Jonathan, withdrawing the same way Blaze had before he'd left. It didn't matter that he shook it off quickly because I'd seen it already. Something was going on, some kind of conspiracy, and I wasn't in on it.

ESME'S and Chris' unnatural
 exuberance didn't improve my state of concern when we hauled into 
Esme's
 as usual. She too traded secret glances and smiles, while Chris' cheerfulness had an edge to it, like he was in on some sort of evil scheme that would cause a tragedy of catastrophic proportions. Whatever they all knew, he was happy about it for a different reason and that scared me. 

"You know when you just have a really bad feeling about something?" It surprised me how drunk I was feeling. I'd been accosted at the bar when we'd first arrived by a group of people who recognised me from some candid press photos of myself and Blaze around the city, and they'd invited me to join them in a round of shots. I could never turn down a free drink, but I really should not have felt as lousy as I did for one more. My voice didn't sound like my own. I wasn't sure that I was making sense and I was feeling so dog tired. Suspecting it was just a result of my shitty mood, I pushed on. "You're all keeping something from me and it's really not fair. Something is going to go wrong. I can feel it in my gut."

My four friends bristled. My gut feelings were usually pretty precise, capable of picking up on misfortune lingering before it happened. I joked that I was distantly related to the cats and dogs who laid down beside a pensioner in a nursing home because they smelled death coming.

Esme reached for my hand and squeezed it tightly. "You don't have to worry about anything. I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen."

"Whatever." I pulled my hand back, pushing to my feet. Impending doom wasn't the only thing happening in my gut and the crowded room was starting to stifle me. I needed air. I lusted for the dry lingering heat of a dying summer to disappear and grant me with a cool, revitalising blast when I stepped outside. And whether he was busy or not, I needed to talk to Blaze. I needed to know that he'd be there like he promised in the morning and there wouldn't be anything hanging between us. 

My step faltered when I edged around the table. Chris leapt to his feet and caught me before I made contact with the floor. "Damn, Emmy. You've been here less than an hour, how are you so trashed already?"

"I'm not. What's the strongest thing here for shots?"

Esme frowned. "I think we still have some Pernod Absinthe but you have the constitution of an ox. One shot shouldn't have
— Emmy? Emmy!"

THERE WAS A poker hot body wrapped around me when I woke
 the next morning. It was attached to a scent I knew well; Chanel perfume mixed with black cherry flavoured tobacco and white rum. It wasn't the way Esme dutifully stroked my knotted hair that woke me, nor the fact that, unlike most of the other times before when I'd woken up this way, she was still dressed. It was more the fact that there was a third person in the room, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Well, this is interesting."
 

I lifted my head weakly to sigh at Blaze, quickly sinking back at the exertion. He'd still come to me as promised and didn't look as distracted as he had done the last time I'd seen him. I was grateful for that at least. Still, the way I felt detracted my attention away from the fact he looked wicked hot in tight jeans, high-tops and a loose fitting Monday's Miracle t-shirt.
 "Have I crossed some kind of line by waking up with a woman? 'No, oh no, I'm sorry. It's not what it looks like'." I opened one eye to look for Esme's confirmation. "Is it?"

"Not this time, sexpot. You know I like you lucid and/or sentient. There was none of that, mores the pity." She slid out of my bed and headed in the direction of the kitchen, pausing at Blaze's shoulder. "We had a mishap last night. Emmy's drink was spiked."

"What?" I flinched at the sound of his car keys hitting the floor. In less than a second, he was at my side, taking Esme's place between the sheets and cradling my head against his chest. Being dragged around like a rag doll nagged at my aching muscles and made me wince, but it was a small price to pay for being in what had somewhat recklessly become my most favourite place in the world. "Why the hell would someone go to your bar to do that? Why the hell didn't you call me?" The questions seemed almost like accusations.