Victor watched Mirage through the window into the DJ booth. She was smiling brightly at the DJ as she answered questions about her show. She wore a t-shirt advertising herself, over a pair of jeans, biker boots, and a cropped leather jacket, her hair slicked back into her signature ponytail, complete with pink-tipped extensions, and looked every part of the rockstar that she was.“She is holding up,” Vice murmured. “She is strong, our Mira.”“Mmm,” Victor wanted nothing more than to cancel the rest of her tour and take her home where he and Vice could keep her safe from the outside world that was too often cruel to her. But Mirage lived for her music, and being up close and personal, seeing the faces of her fans, was doing a lot to rebuild her confidence after twelve months of media harassment.He had taken control of Mirage’s phone and was fighting the desire to ring the burner phone number, to see if Mr Rich would answer, and then spewing some of the vitriol he was feeling towards t
Once he was certain that Mirage was asleep, Vice slipped out of the bed and retrieved the phone from where Victor had left it on the bedside table. As he returned to the bed to read through the response for himself, he saw Victor’s eyes open. Vice nodded his head in silent agreement that they would continue to shield Mirage from her phone. Victor closed his eyes again and snuggled into Mirage’s hair with a sigh.Victor had not lied. In the majority, her fans were incredibly sympathetic and supportive, and there were many messages from various media sources wanting interviews, as well as entreaties from various groups for her representation, but there were also those who used her social media to spew vitriol about women’s irresponsibility and that sexual assault was a result of dress choice and behaviour.There were several missed calls from Gabriella and Lucas, and a message from Aaron advising not to answer them and that he had told them that he was filtering calls from the record co
“Bloody hell,” Vice declared as he opened the door into their house. “I don’t think I have ever been so glad to get home. I think I am drunk off the smell of house.”“What does house smell like, exactly?” Mirage giggled.“Hmm,” he drew in a breath. “Ghosts of your perfume, furniture polish, and Victor’s gym socks.”“Hey,” Victor protested. “My gym socks are a refined vintage.”“Keep telling yourself that, whilst the rest of us gag,” Vice replied.“I smell,” Mirage stepped in. “Vice’s aftershave, and Victor’s shampoo, and staleness.”“I smell,” Victor followed them into the hall leaving the driver to unload the boot. “Vice’s toy room,” he added optimistically.“What does my toy room smell like?” Vice asked with a sly grin.“Lube, vinyl, and leather.” Victor replied readily.“Is that wishful thinking?” Vice asked conversationally as he claimed a suitcase from the front door and placed it into the front hall.“Factual thinking,” Victor decided.“Unpack, shower, food, wine, and then, I wi
On Monday Raven turned up unannounced at their gate as was his habit. Victor went to greet him at the door as Vice and Mirage were already in the pool, and watched as the lean, black-haired, sharply featured man got out of the crappy silver sedan he was driving.Raven looked rough even by his normal standards with a week’s worth of stubble on his face and shadows under his eyes, but he grinned widely, revealing a flash of strong white teeth against his olive complexion, upon seeing Victor.“If you offer me coffee, I am not responsible for my reaction,” Raven said.“What?” Victor raised an eyebrow and realised that he was teasing him about the manbun he was wearing and the beard he had been growing in. He stroked his beard between his forefinger and thumb. “You don’t like the beard? Apparently, they are the current fashion, and it doesn’t raise a rash on Mirage. Anywhere,” he added with a glint in his eye.Raven snorted. “You grew a beard so you that didn’t prickle your woman when you
Victor leaned against the bench as he waited for the coffee to percolate and watched his partner at work. Vice was bent over the control board his headphones on, his posture hunched, and his eyes closed as he nodded along with the music. Vice’s cheeks were dark with stubble, and he had shadows under his eyes. He looked as if they had put in a few hard nights partying, rather than at the control board and in the attached recording room.They were both looking a bit rough, Victor thought wryly. The last few days they had been putting in hard hours in the studio, getting as many tracks down as possible. Their mornings were early, showers perfunctory, and days long. Mirage had taken to bringing their meals to the studio and collecting the plates afterwards to ensure that they ate.But the hard work was gradually paying off. The album was shaping up, and it was solid. It did not have the magic of passion behind it that Mirage’s did, but they were convinced they were doing their best work s
“Thank you,” Vixen sashayed between them, Shadow hard on her heels, and they stepped into the house leaving the three men to bring up the rear.“I trust Vixen,” Raven murmured under his breath. “Listen to what she has to say.”“I think she has you by the balls,” Vice replied. “Are your priorities straight, Raven?”Raven did not answer him, but colour rose up his neck to his cheeks.Mirage was waiting in the seating area and stood as they entered.“Hello Miranda,” Vixen said. “Or do you prefer Mirage? I am Vixen, and this is Shadow.”“Hi,” Shadow wiggled his fingers in a wave.“Hello,” Mirage’s eyes went to Vice and Victor, and then back to Vixen. “Won’t you sit down? Would you like to have a drink? I could do with a drink,” she said.“Champagne?” Vice stepped over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle. “Raven? Shadow?”“Beer for me,” Raven said.“Shadow will have a beer,” Vixen replied.“He must have been a good boy,” Raven commented under his breath, and exchanged a smirk with Shadow
“Do you remember when pulling up to this building was exciting?” Mirage asked Vice and Victor as the limousine slowed to a stop out front of the gleaming tower of glass with its neon highlights of color drawing the eye into the glossy foyer. A bored security guard watched the red carpet out front through the glass doors, to see what celebrity had gotten the photographers that lingered by standing invitation to capture the comings and goings, and she could see Aaron, in a blue suit, near the reception desk. “Now every time I come here; I feel like I am arming up for a battle.”“I know the feeling,” Victor agreed as they waited for the chauffeur to make his way to the door. “It is just further motivation to start our own label.”“Well, into the fray,” Vice smoothed the lapel of his jacket as the driver opened the door, standing back crisply. Vice stepped out, raising his hand, and beaming at the photographers, before reaching back into the limo to hand Mirage out.“Watch your skirt,” he
Mirage froze. She felt as if someone had run an ice cube along her spine. Her heart was a hard, insistent beat against her ribcage.“What are you doing here, Richard?”Mr Rich had seen better days, she thought. She could smell the alcohol on him, and sour body odour. His clothing had been slept in at least once, and his cheeks wore a week’s worth of stubble.He was holding a gun, low against his hip, the muzzle pointed at her.Shit. This is not how I want to die, she thought bitterly. At the wrong end of a bullet fired by a narcissistic rapist. Had he been right? Was that really how the world worked? Was it really a man’s world?F-k that, she decided, angrily. She had started this fighting, and she would go down fighting.She prayed that he had not already been by the boardroom where Vice and Victor were in negotiations with Gabriella and Lucas.“Police are searching my f-king house,” he told her with fury. “I have been f-king fired and no one will touch me. I have f-king protestors o